At The End of The Day
by Araminta Ditch
Summary: Elizabeth is once again captured, though this time she is not alone. Along with several girls from Port Royal, Elizabeth is captured by slave traders. She must rely on her husband and the men she cares about to save her and her unborn child. WE JA NOC.
1. Chapter 1

**At the End of the Day**

_At the end of the day, money is money but love is divine. In our quest for our material wealth, take time to make time for our loved ones. There will be a time when we have only memories to cling to._

_Unknown source_

_x_

She used to live for the evenings. Every day, she would wait impatiently for him to come home, tired and worn out from his long day at work. It was all for her, she knew. He worked such long hours so she would be comfortable in her life with him, as being married to a blacksmith was a drastic change from her life as the well-off governor's daughter.

Though, as the months went by, he came home later and later each evening. After a while, she had given up altogether and retired to bed long before he came home. He said it was all for her. He wanted a better life for them, a life very much like the one she had with her father. Try as she might, she could not sway him. Any life with him would have been perfect for her, if only he would understand.

-x-x-x-

"Not all treasure is silver and gold," a very wise man once said, and William Turner had believed that for a long time. However, his married life with Elizabeth brought about a problem. He was but a blacksmith, and she was used to a life of luxury. Due to his pride and conviction, he dedicated most of his hours to his work, and less to his lovely wife.

Will entered the small, dark house quietly, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it against the rack by the door. The house was by no means spectacular, but neither was it deprived. Will had managed to buy it with the money he had acquired through work after spending the first few weeks of his marriage in the small apartment behind the smithy. Although it was spacious enough to live in with a family, he believed it only to be temporary, with something much grander and elaborate in mind for his dearest wife.

Tip-toeing his way to the bedroom, Will opened the door slowly and peered inside. The room was dark, and his wife lay fast asleep in bed. He undressed quickly, kicking off his boots and removing his vest and shirt before climbing into bed beside her.

Almost immediately, Elizabeth turned, evidently still awake and wrapped her arm around his body, resting her head against his chest.

"It's midnight," she whispered tiredly against his skin.

Will sighed and closed his eyes. "I know. I had a few projects that needed continuing, darling. I'm sorry."

Elizabeth sat up with a curse, causing him to open his eyes blearily.

"Damn it, Will! It's always something with you." She quieted as she turned to look at him. "You're never home."

Will reached out a hand and stroked her back soothingly. "I'm only doing what is necessary, my love. You need a better life than –"

"I'm happy with the life I have right now!" Elizabeth interjected severely.

Will sat up and regarded her quietly. "You're angry with me."

"Only because I miss you," she whispered back, lowering her gaze.

He raised his hand to her face, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb. "This will all change soon. I promise," Will replied, sealing his word with a chaste kiss on her lips.

Elizabeth remained still for a moment before settling back down on the bed, pulling him with her. Will wrapped his arm around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathed deeply.

"I visited the doctor today," she whispered, turning her face into his hair.

"You are not well?" her husband questioned, concern etched within his tired voice.

'_You would know if you had been here,'_ Elizabeth thought bitterly, but bit her tongue, knowing the reply would cause another useless feud.

"I have been somewhat ill for the past fortnight," she replied, choosing her words with care. "Though, 'ill' doesn't really suit my condition."

Will kissed her collarbone affectionately, though it was evident he was worried.

"What ails you?"

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment before answering. "We are expecting," she whispered, her eyes shining with both fear and excitement.

Raising his head quickly, Will stared down at her in surprise. "A child?"

His wife nodded and he immediately smothered her face in light kisses, rambling on with praises and declarations of love.

"…this is wonderful! A child! I'll have to keep working, of course, and buy a bigger house for the three of us, and…"

Elizabeth gave him a look of warning and he immediately stopped speaking. "Will, you know this house is perfectly suitable for a family, and I'd hate to move again."

Will sighed and kissed her forehead lightly. "Very well, but we will discuss this later." He kissed her lips slowly, and she returned the gesture. "I love you, Elizabeth Turner."

She giggled. "And, I love you too, William Turner."

A satisfied smile graced his lips, and he settled back down against Elizabeth's neck and closed his eyes. It's been a long day, and he was tired.

**x**

**Author's Note: **Alas, here it is, my first chaptered fiction in a long, long time. Stay tuned for more of the workaholic William Turner, the more than satisfied Elizabeth Turner, some bloodthirsty pirates, a comforting Commodore, and maybe a side order of some Jack Sparrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **(which I've forgotten in the previous chapter and goes for all chapters following) I do not own anything that is associated with Pirates of the Caribbean, except for the DVD itself.

**At The End of the Day**

_Chapter Two_

_X_

Sweat drenched William Turner's back and neck as he hammered away on the red-hot rod of metal. He knew by both instinct and the way the rod molded perfectly with each stroke that this would be a fine sword, one of the best. As soon as he had achieved the length and shape necessary, he placed his hammer down and plunged the rod into the barrel of water used for cooling the metal he worked with. Steam immediately rose from the water, heating his already red face. Glancing up at the clock, Will cursed and took the sword out of the water.

William had promised Elizabeth that he would be home earlier for her that night, but it was already nearing midnight, and he most probably wouldn't arrive home until after.

The Blacksmith yearned to complete the sword, as leaving something so perfect overnight seemed such a waste, but Elizabeth would have his hide for coming home any later. So, he reluctantly placed the sword aside and began to clean his workstation.

He finished quickly and left the shop, locking the door behind him and pocketing the key. Deciding to walk by the water, Will headed towards the docks; his step more hurried than was usual. As he neared the docking area, two men, seemingly in a heated conversation, caught his eye. They were an odd pair, a navy man and a rather rugged looking outsider. Will watched the water as he strolled by and wondered idly if he should intervene before a fight broke out between the two.

A gunshot however jarred him out of his thoughts. He looked to the pair again and was horrified to see the navy man collapse to the ground, holding a wound at his chest. His face was white with shock and blood loss as red seeped throughout the front of his shirt.

Will stood rooted to the ground as the other man looked up at him before raising his now smoking gun into the air and firing two shots into the sky.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar sounded, deafening William, followed by a burst of flames with such force, they knocked down a whole row of stands in the market area.

A single, shrill scream was heard, followed by a deathly silence, before all hell broke loose.

Pirates emerged from everywhere almost simultaneously, while a ship not far from the docks began firing cannons into the port. He realized to his dismay, that the explosion he had just witnessed was just a cannonball.

Will remained still for a moment, shocked with the horrible sensation of déjà vu, before springing to life. He sprinted quickly back to the smithy, skidding away from several gunshots. Upon arriving at the door, he fumbled with the lock and cursed before digging into his pocket and retrieving the key. The door opened quickly and William entered and closed the door, bolting it behind him.

Rushing to the wall adorned with the blacksmith's numerous completed weapons, Will grabbed the best of them, attaching them to his belt, keeping two in his hands, one of them a pistol.

Leaving the smithy once again, Will fired at the nearest pirate, relieved to find that he fell to the ground, dead. William had been afraid that these pirates would be like Barbossa's crew.

Spying a group of frantic soldiers rushing to the fort, Will quickly decided to follow. If there was anyone in this town who knew how to handle a battle properly, it was Commodore James Norrington.

William followed the soldiers, fighting off every pirate within reach, using all of his bullets and resorting to his handheld weapons.

The pirates were everywhere, killing off the citizens, breaking into homes and emerging with jewels and even women and children.

Upon arriving at the fort, Will and the soldiers were allowed to pass through by the terrified looking guard standing by. The Commodore was atop the battlements, shouting orders for canon fire, and Will quickly climbed the numerous staircases to reach his side.

Norrington nodded grimly, acknowledging his presence. "Turner."

Will nodded in return. "Commodore."

James allowed the faintest of grins upon his face. "I'm glad to see you've made it this far."

Will sidestepped a canon as it rolled backwards with the force of firing. "Likewise."

He grimly observed the chaos occurring down in the small port and turned back to the Commodore. "What do you think could have spurred this?"

An outburst of flames and rubble erupted only feet away from the Commodore's boots, and the blacksmith and the navy official were knocked to the ground.

"I don't know, it seems random," James yelled over the roar of canons and gunfire along with the screams and shouts of the citizens below them.

The Commodore shouted several orders to the men handling the cannons, and several more shots were fired.

"However, I do recognize the ship," he continued. "It's the _Lady Maribel_, a pirate ship often disguised as a merchant. She's the most notorious slave-trade ship in the Caribbean."

Another cannon blasted the wall next to Will and he jumped up to his feet, pulling the Commodore with him.

"They're taking slaves?" he asked, a sickly feeling creeping over him. He knew now why the pirates had been clearing the women and children from their homes.

Yet another canon hit and James quickly covered his face with his arms.

"Not if I can help it."

_-x-x-x-_

Elizabeth awoke with a gasp to the rumble of canon fire and screams. Quickly fetching her robe, she tied it around her small body before peering cautiously out of the window. The town was in utter disarray, with pirates running about causing the mayhem. She closed the curtain quickly, and pressed her back to the wall beside the window, hoping they haven't seen her.

The glass shattered, however and a pair of hands emerged from the window, tangling with the curtains. Elizabeth screamed and ran from the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Running into the hallway, she stumbled back and gasped in fright as two large men were there already, looking her over hungrily. Elizabeth doubled back and ended up in the kitchen, cornered, for the two men blocked the doorway. One approached her and she backed into a wall, her hand searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. She grasped the end of a poker used to tend the fire and swung it dangerously in front of her.

"Don't come near me," Elizabeth warned, failing to keep the panic from rising in her voice.

Both of the pirates chuckled and the one closest to her spoke. "Come quietly, missy, and we'll be gentle."

Elizabeth eyed them both warily and spoke harshly. "I'll be going nowhere. Get out of my house."

The pirates paid no heed to Elizabeth's words and lunged for her. Elizabeth swung the poker in fear, colliding it with one of the pirate's shin with a sickening thud. He howled and fell to the ground, grasping his bleeding leg.

The second pirated tore the poker out of Elizabeth's hands as she was distracted by the first and pushed her up against the wall. She yelled for help, even though she knew that if anyone could hear her, they wouldn't come to help because they cared only about saving themselves. The pirate reached into a pouch and drew small bits of rope and a dirtied cloth.

"Can't have ye struggling, now can I?" He growled into her ear as he roughly tied the cloth around her mouth to prevent her from speaking. His body pressed against hers forcefully, so she was unable to move. Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly as hot tears burned their way down her cheeks.

"Now, don't be cryin' missy. I'm not the one that'll be hurtin' ye." He bound her wrists securely together, so tight, the ropes dug into her skin.

"You'll be coming with us, now, and ye won't make a fuss."

Elizabeth could only glare at him as he turned and attended to his friend. She was left unwatched, so she searched quickly for something to help her escape. A heavy pan was all she found, so she grasped it with her hands, which was difficult as her wrists were bound and hit the pirate squarely across his back. The pirate stumbled forward and gave a yell of rage as she attempted to run away. He lunged for her legs and she tripped, falling on her shoulder.

He stepped over her and fumbled yet again in his pouch and took out a small flask of what she thought would be some sort of liquor.

"I didn't want to be doin' this here, missy, but ye leave me no choice." He opened the flask and poured some of the contents onto a cloth before quickly covering her mouth and nose with it.

Elizabeth thrashed around violently and screamed as loud as the cloths would allow, tears flowing freely down her face. She tried desperately to breathe, but with each breath she inhaled the fumes of the acrid smelling liquid that burned her mouth. Everything went dizzy, and Elizabeth finally fell unconscious.

_-x-x-x-_

"Commodore, sir! The ship is leaving the port!" A young soldier pointed frantically at the number of small rowboats carrying the pirates back to the _Lady Maribel._

Gillette appeared between William and Commodore Norrington. "What are your orders, Sir?"

James thought for a moment before replying. "We cannot go after them now. Our numbers are too few and they have better guns than ours. Send word to the neighboring forts for reinforcements and we shall pursue them as soon as is possible."

Gillette nodded; though it was obvious he was itching to go after the ship himself. "Very well," he said stiffly, turning to leave.

Another soldier approached James. "Commodore, sir. The pirates have left the port, and there are many casualties. However, some are reported missing." He looked a bit nervous. "All of them women and children, sir."

Commodore Norrington swore under his breath before turning to the soldier. "How many are reported missing?"

"'Round thirty so far," the navy man replied.

"And how many casualties?"

"We have no way of telling yet, sir. The number is still rising."

James nodded grimly. "Very well, then. I want a full list of all of the names of the missing, and a temporary hospital set up for the injured as soon as possible. We need to recuperate quickly if we are to catch up to the _Lady Maribel_."

Then, turning to Will, the Commodore sighed. "Thank you, Turner. You've been a great help. Now, please go on and check on your wife?"

William nodded his thanks before taking off the way he came. The journey to his house took half as long, as he sprinted the entire way.

The door was closed and locked, to his relief, but upon further inspection, he noticed several windows broken. Breathing quickly, he entered the house through one of the windows and searched frantically about the house for his wife, calling out her name.

He came into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks, horrified. A struggle was apparent, and there was a trace of fresh blood on the ground.

His blood pumping roughly, Will tore out of the house in a panic, running back to the fort. In his haste, he nearly collided with the governor himself.

"William! I'm so glad to see you, my son. How are you fairing?" The governor attempted to be his usual jovial self, but it wasn't coming across well. His face was gray with worry and his large wig was in disarray.

Will gasped. "Mr. Swann, sir. You're daughter. Elizabeth. She's-"

He was cut off quickly by the arrival of the Commodore. "Come. Inside the fort." James ushered the two inside, and Will was finally able to speak.

"Commodore, Elizabeth has been taken!"

Norrington's face paled. "You are sure of this?"

"Yes, yes! I am sure! We have to do something now, we cannot wait for the reinforcements, it will be too late!"

James thought frantically. "I'm sorry, Will. There is absolutely nothing we can do. We will be able to pursue the Lady Maribel as soon as we have all that is necessary."

"NO!" Will nearly screamed, his face red with panic and anger. "We cannot wait, she needs to be brought back now!"

The Commodore grasped Will by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, William, but we cannot do anything yet. If it is any consolation to you, I want to go after them as much as you do. They've taken my own wife as well!"

Placing a hand to his temple he attempted to calm himself down. Will looked to the Commodore pleadingly. "Please, James. She is with child."

_-x-x-x-_

**Author's note:** Thank you to all of those who have reviewed and read my story so far. This is a much longer installment, and they will be getting longer still.

This chapter is dedicated to my beloveds, Williz and Melleh1. I love you guys! 


	3. Chapter 3

At The End of the Day

Chapter 3

_X_

Elizabeth came to gradually. She felt nauseous and her head throbbed painfully. For a brief moment, she believed she was at home, and the discomfort she was enduring was due simply to the life she carried inside of her. Though, as she regained her senses, in addition to a constant rocking motion that spurred her nausea, she realized this was not the case.

It seemed that Elizabeth was lying in what appeared to be a puddle of cold, slimy water that soaked through her clothes and chilled her skin. She opened her eyes to observe her surroundings and was met with a blinding pain. Shutting her eyes immediately, Elizabeth willed the pain in her temple to subside before attempting to open her eyes once more. There was no more pain this time, and she was able to take in her surroundings.

Elizabeth was lying against the wall of a cell containing at least twenty other girls. The rocking motion of the room told her that she was aboard a ship as well. She closed her eyes tightly once again and tried to make sense of the situation. Her memory seemed to be blotched, and Elizabeth could only recollect bits and pieces of information that could tell her how she had landed in such circumstances. Her last memory consisted of the two men, pirates, in her house, threatening to take her. It seemed the men had succeeded in the end.

The girl groaned and opened her eyes blearily. The nausea overwhelmed her slight frame and she turned to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach onto the cold, wet floor. Just as suddenly, a pair of hands held her hair back and a voice spoke soothingly.

"It's alright, Elizabeth. You're alright."

Elizabeth wiped her mouth with a grimace and turned to the woman comforting her. It was none other than the Commodore's wife, and Elizabeth's closest friend, Emily Norrington.

"Emily?" Elizabeth questioned unsteadily, unsure whether her eyes were playing tricks on her or not. She clutched her abdomen in an attempt to quell another wave of nausea.

Emily nodded sadly, her dark eyes red with tears. It was obvious by her flushed cheeks and swollen eyes that she had been crying a great deal.

Emily and James had been married for a mere two months. James had recovered soon enough from Elizabeth's rejection to discover that his heart went out to another, that being Emily Groves, as was her maiden name. She was the sister of none other than Norrington's comrade, Lieutenant Groves.

Emily had a pale, pretty complexion with strikingly dark eyes and dark hair that was just as striking. She was sharp of mind and tongue and had a certain zest for life that went unmatched by many. At the moment, however, she seemed meek and terrified, her pretty features clouded by tears and fear.

Elizabeth sat up with an effort and leaned against the wall, trying hard not to look at the substances she had just retched upon the floor; afraid it might trigger her to vomit again. Emily placed a hand at her shoulder, her brow furrowed with worry.

"How are you?" she asked, though her eyes were on her stomach. Emily had been the first one to know about the baby.

Elizabeth attempted an assuring smile, but failed altogether.

"I've been better," she managed to say. She paused for a moment, trying to sort out the countless thoughts in her head.

"How long have we been here?" Elizabeth finally asked.

Emily sighed wearily, her eyes brimming with tears once again.

"Near two days. You've been unconscious for a long time, I thought you weren't going to wake up."

Elizabeth was surprised, though not unpleasantly so as Emily enveloped her in a warm hug.

"I'm so relieved you're alright," Emily gasped into her shoulder as sobs wracked her body.

Elizabeth soothed her best she could, and once her distressed friend calmed a bit, she decided to keep on asking questions.

"Have you heard from our captors yet?"

Emily shook her head.

"They've only come down to give us food." Suddenly, Emily remembered something and reached behind her, taking a small piece of bread from a bag.

"Speaking of, here. You need this, after two whole days without food," Emily said, offering her the bread.

At the mere sight of food, Elizabeth's stomach rumbled and she graciously took it from her friend's hands. She took a small bite, finding the nausea subsided as soon as she did so. As she ate, she observed the rest of the girls in the cell. Many of them were younger than she, and she was barely in her twentieth year. They all shared the same expression of despair.

"I feel horrible eating while you all have nothing," Elizabeth whispered to her friend.

"Oh, don't you worry, Elizabeth. We all have had our shares already." A hint of a smile graced her lips. "Now eat up. We want that baby of yours to grow up nice and pretty like her mum."

Elizabeth smiled at her comment. "Or nice and handsome like his father."

Emily smiled and shrugged. "Either way, that child's bound to be pretty."

Elizabeth smiled again and finished eating the bread quickly.

. 

Several hours passed without much event. Elizabeth occasionally dosed off, for she found it much better to be asleep. When she was conscious, her stomach rumbled with hunger and she felt constantly on the verge of tears. She hadn't yet cried while aboard the ship, and she didn't want to anytime soon.

At the moment, she lay awake against the cold wall, absentmindedly stroking her still flat belly. She was unable to fall asleep, and was deep in thought. Elizabeth put a lot of faith in her husband. She knew it was only a matter of time before Will would come to save her. No doubt he was already on his way at the very moment.

_-x-x-x-_

William hammered the nail inattentively into the metal, nailing the horseshoe snugly onto the horse's hoof. Three days had passed since the attack, and the reinforcements still hadn't arrived. In the three days he had remained in Port Royal, Will had been fixing swords, door hinges and horseshoes; nobly helping with Port Royal's recuperation, in the governor's own words. The blacksmith wondered idly if the fact that his own daughter had been kidnapped yet again had hit the old man, for he showed no sign of it. Maybe perhaps it was done purposefully, to put the people of the town at ease.

Will finished quickly and patted the horse's hock affectionately before standing and clearing away his tools. Though the governor said so, Will did not feel that he was helping a whole lot, and he was restless. He was tempted to do something rash, which probably wouldn't come as a surprise to many, but even if he did so, he wouldn't know where to start. Before he had Captain Jack Sparrow, who was the key to saving Elizabeth.

He could do nothing except wait for the reinforcements, which would eventually arrive, though it was torture waiting there in Port Royal. Will felt helpless to his wife, who was out at sea, suffering unimaginably aboard the _Lady Maribel, _and with his child inside of her to boot.

_-x-x-x-_

Days later, Elizabeth roused from a fitful sleep to the sound of several heavy footfalls coming down the steps and towards the cell. Her stomach rumbled eagerly, for she assumed it was simply a crewmember distributing a poor share of food to each of the girls. However, this time, there were three men standing outside the cell now. One of them, Elizabeth recognized as the man who had captured her. The man in the middle, she assumed was the captain. He was tall and thin, surprisingly well dressed in a colorful Spanish getup and was well groomed with a short goatee. When he spoke, finally, he spoke with a thick Spanish accent. Addressing the two men at his sides, he smiled triumphantly.

"Well done, boys. This bunch should fetch us a fine price indeed."

He nodded his head and the man Elizabeth did not recognize opened the cell door with a ring of keys from his belt. The Spanish man stepped forward into the cell and examined each girl thoroughly, sometimes roughly forcing her to stand. He paused at Elizabeth and glanced to the corner where Elizabeth had been repeatedly sick, due to the regular morning sickness that came with pregnancy.

"You sick?" he asked her gruffly.

Elizabeth glared at him icily.

"Seasick," she replied shortly, not telling him the truth. Elizabeth didn't feel that telling him about her baby was a good idea.

The captain nodded, and then grabbed a hold of Elizabeth's arm, pulling the girl to her feet. He raked his eyes over her body in such a way that Elizabeth felt that she was going to be sick again. The voice of Elizabeth's captor caused him to divert his attention.

"Careful o' that one, Cap'n. She's mighty feisty with a powerful right hook."

The captain turned his attention back to Elizabeth and chuckled.

"Feisty, you say? Let's hope she doesn't have to find out what happens to those who are too spirited. It would be such a shame." He ran the point of his finger down her cheek. "Such a pretty face."

Elizabeth jerked her face away from his hand and he chuckled again before letting her go. She sat back down upon the wet floor to be comforted by Emily, still glowering at the man.

The captain finished his inspections and stood in the middle of the cell, addressing the captives.

"Welcome aboard the _Lady Maribel_, girls. You'll be aboard for quite awhile, so in the meantime, you will refer to me only as Captain Bernardo Dominiquez." He paused for a moment, and then smirked down upon them all. "Consider yourselves lucky to be sailing aboard the _Lady Maribel_, the _finest_ slave trade ship in the Spanish Main!"

_-x-x-x-_

The morning the reinforcements arrived, the town was overjoyed. Two hundred soldiers arrived on four ships along with a total of ninety of the newest, most advanced guns.

William Turner quickly pushed his way through the cheering crowd and made it to the Commodore's side at the dock as he waited to greet the men in charge.

Norrington greeted him with a genuine smile.

"Pack your bags, Turner. We set sail as soon as possible."

_-x-x-x-_

Captain Dominiquez left them quickly after giving the other two pirates a quick nod.

"You know what to do."

The two pirates nodded respectfully and stepped inside the cell, menacing grins upon their faces.

"Now, ladies," began the first one, whom Elizabeth knew. "This here's a slave trade ship, and ye' know what ye' all are?"

He paused for the effect.

"_Slaves._"

Several girls looked horrified. Some had never lifted a finger for household chores in their lives.

The pirate continued. "Ye' won't be getting any food or water unless ye' work for it, understood?"

None of the girls made any inclination that they heard him, but he continued on anyways.

"Everyone is expected to work, and those who don't can expect a few good beatings."

Without any warning, the other pirate began pulling the women roughly to their feet, hustling them out of the cell and up to the deck. The bright sunlight blinded them for a few moments and they shielded their eyes before realizing their surroundings.

The ship deck was large and so filthy, it looked as if it was made so purposefully. Food remains, dirty clothing, patches of what looked suspiciously like dried blood and the like littered the ground no matter where they looked. The crew had stopped working and smiled maliciously, some of them hungrily, at the young girls.

One of the pirates shoved several buckets of seawater to them, the water slopping out of the containers and wetting the floor. Inside the water were several soaking rags.

"Well," barked the pirate. "Get to work!"

Elizabeth did not need to be told twice and immediately reached inside for a rag and kneeled to the floor, beginning to scrub furiously, The girls followed her example, and soon they were all working and sweating in the morning sun. The pirates would purposefully knock over the barrels of water and laugh, as the girls would attempt to clean up the spilled water.

One particular girl, Maria, who was barely over sixteen, received more attention than most. The pirates would walk past her, pretend to stumble or drop something, and then touch her, laughing all the while. By the end of the day, Maria was in tears and was shaking with rage.

When a particular pirate picked up a dropped coin for the third time beside her and reached out to pinch her leg, she lifted the bucket of now murky water and splashed the contents over his face. He coughed and sputtered, wiping his eyes in surprise before growling and backhanding her harshly across her face. Maria collapsed against the ground, sobbing, and the sopping pirate raised his hand to hit her again and again.

Elizabeth and the rest of the girls winced with each strike and cry from Maria, each one of them not daring to make a move to stop the man.

Finally, the pirate finished and spat on the ground upon which Maria lay, gasping and sobbing. The rest of the crew made a point to turn their backs and the girls dutifully went back to work.

Elizabeth looked from the crew to Maria, and then with her jaw set, she stood and walked over to where Maria lay. Elizabeth knelt beside her and helped the poor girl to her feet. She glared at the crew as if daring them to do anything about her helping the girl, but they paid her no mind and continued with their work.

Elizabeth hushed the sobbing girl, brushing her hair from her face as she led her to the somewhat secluded area of the deck where Elizabeth had been scrubbing the floor.

"You may clean by me," Elizabeth said quietly as she placed a rag in the young girl's hand. She wanted to comfort her, but she knew if either of them stopped cleaning, a beating, perhaps far worse than Maria herself had just endured, was in store for them.

It was nearing midnight when the Captain finally emerged from the wheel and grinned down upon the women.

"Well done, ladies. I hope you all have come to appreciate the feeling of a good hard day's work. You're all done for the night."

A pirate jabbed a gun barrel into Elizabeth's side, forcing her up. She and the rest of her companions were forced down below back into the cell, where a meager meal was waiting for them.

Elizabeth nearly pounced upon the food even though it was of poor quality. She was terribly worried about her child becoming harmed due to something such as malnutrition. The expectant mother found that if she did not answer to her hunger, nausea would overwhelm her and she would be sick. To prevent such a thing from happening and arousing the crew's suspicion, she had resorted to eating some bits of food left behind by the pirates while cleaning. It was pathetic, she knew, but she was doing anything within her power to protect her unborn child.

Her hunger subsided, though it was not really satisfied, and Elizabeth curled up against Emily and several other people for warmth. The prisoners had learned to rely on each other for the things they could not provide by themselves, protection and warmth being only two. With a hand upon her belly, Elizabeth gave a weary, sad yawn and fell into a disturbed sleep.

-x-x-x-

**Author's note: **I hate mosquitoes. The end.


	4. Chapter 4

**At The End of the Day**

_Chapter 4_

X 

The ship, more or less a copy of the _Interceptor_ herself, glided swiftly through the blue-green Caribbean waters, followed by three of the strongest ships in Her Majesties Royal Navy. William Turner stood at the hull of the first ship, staring blankly out to sea. He was overwhelmed by a number of emotions, and he wasn't quite sure how to square with some of them.

Guilt was foremost. He knew now that he had been incredibly foolish in the past, so bent on creating a better life for Elizabeth, when all she had wanted was he. He felt cheated, almost, that he didn't spend much time with her, as he was able to, and he cursed himself for it. Now, she was left alone, fighting for her very life and the life of his child.

A cough broke him out of his trance and he turned to find the Commodore standing beside him. James looked out to the seemingly endless blue waters for a moment before turning to Will. He smiled, though it was only a shadow of a happy one. He seemed that he wanted to say something and groped for the right words.

"It's almost humorous, William… I never imagined that I would willingly aid you with anything after that fiasco last year." He stared guiltily down at his feet. "I want to apologize."

"For what?" Will questioned, though he supposed he understood.

The Commodore sighed. "For a long time, Elizabeth's choice and your involvement with Sparrow left me somewhat bitter towards you. There were even some moments that I would curse your name and your existence." He paused, searching for the right words as he became embarrassed at his revelation. "I realize now, that I was selfish and incredibly idiotic… my jealousy and resentment was within good reason, though it blinded and prevented me from befriending a truly honorable man."

Will did not answer, and that spurred Norrington to continue speaking.

"We are united now by a common goal; we both want to save our loved ones. Though, I had hoped that maybe after all of this, we could forget our pasts and become friends of sorts."

The blacksmith smiled, perhaps the first genuine smile since the beginning of this whole ordeal. He clasped the Commodore warmly on the shoulder.

"There was nothing for you to apologize for, James."

James smiled and turned back to the sea. His features became troubled once again.

"We're headed for Puerto Cimarron," he sighed. "The _Lady Maribel_ often makes port there. Hopefully she'll be there, or if not, we'll find some clues as to her whereabouts. Either way, we'll take the port full force to get the information we need."

Will nodded solemnly. "Puerto Cimarron. A Spanish colony?"

"Unfortunately," the commodore replied. "It roughly translates to Untamed Port."

Will set his jaw grimly. "Untamed? Meaning the scenery or the people?"

"I've no idea, though I desperately hope it's not the latter."

"How long until we arrive?" Will questioned anxiously. They had already wasted a great deal of time waiting for the enforcements.

"One week," James replied despondently. "Though I hoped it would be sooner. If Puerto Cimarron is indeed where the _Lady Maribel_ was headed, they have had enough time to arrive and leave with ample time to sell their… _cargo._" He spit the last word, for just the concept of his own wife and Elizabeth being considered property to be sold was repulsive.

Will remained silent, though he fingered his simple wedding band lightly. James observed him for a moment before sighing and stepping away.

_X_

When the Commodore had said that the armed forces would take Puerto Cimarron full force, he wasn't in the least bit exaggerating. The name, it seemed, referred particularly to the population, as many of the inhabitants did seem rather untamed and barbaric. Most of the business there was affiliated with pirating and smuggling of illegal goods.

Soldiers swarmed into the small port and occupied the entirety of the docking area, allowing no ships to leave or enter without intense searching and interrogation of the crewmembers. Others entered the town and searched the insides of homes and businesses for any possible sign of the missing citizens of Port Royal or the crew of the _Lady Maribel._

Will strode purposefully down the dock towards the captain in charge of the interrogations and searches.

"Any news at all?" The blacksmith questioned anxiously. The captain shook his head apologetically.

"No sign of them yet, sir. Though, we're bound to hear something of their whereabouts."

Will sighed and continued down the dock. It was useless to search himself, for there were at least fifteen soldiers aboard every ship and even more in the town searching for any sign. He came upon a disgruntled soldier desperately trying to communicate with a pirate captain who was babbling on in what seemed to be Spanish.

"La nave que usted está buscando es captained por Bernardo Dominiquez. Él no ha hecho el puerto aquí, porque lo dirigen al Salvador de Bahía. Sé esto, porque era una vez un miembro del equipo de capitán Dominiquez" the man repeated for at least the fifth time.

Will turned to the soldier attempting to speak back to him in limited Spanish.

"Have you any idea what this man may be trying to say?"

The soldier shrugged. "My knowledge of Spanish isn't very vast, Mr. Turner, though I am understanding it bit by bit." He gestured to the man. "He says he was a crewmember aboard the ship and they haven't made port here because they are headed to… ah, hold on a quick moment, let me find out."

He turned back to the Spanish man and inquired for him to repeat himself yet again. Once he had finished, he turned triumphantly to Will.

"He says, the _Lady Maribel_ has not made port here, because they are headed to Salvador de Bahía, a port at the very tip of South America."

Will nodded and with a quick thank you and quickly tore back down the dock and boarded the ship. He found James alone at his desk, pondering over several official looking documents. Out of breath, Will somehow managed to speak quickly.

"They're headed for Salvador de Bahía. In South America."

James nodded and quickly unrolled a map across the desk. He traced his finger along South America in search for said port. His finger stopped at the very tip.

"Here," Norrington said finally. "It's a small island, in the Straight of Magellan." He grabbed a measuring compass and determined the distance from their current location to the island.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, causing Will to look up, alarmed.

"What is it?"

The Commodore sighed. "It'll take us nearly three months to get there, if we're lucky and do not run into any complications. The _Lady Maribel_ will have a much quicker journey due to that they are but one ship and do not need many supplies."

"Just our luck," Will replied grimly.

-x-x-x-

The cell door was yanked roughly open, jerking the women inside awake immediately. Several curses were heard, followed by crazed laughter, as the pirate who had opened the cell appeared to be drunk. It was the same pirate who saw fit to terrorize poor Maria.

The pirate staggered inside and peered down at them all. He stunk of stale rum and body odor and the smell and sight of him alone nearly made Elizabeth gag. With a manic grin he began singling them out with his fingers.

"Where be that pretty little 'un?" He asked no one in particular, slurring his words. Spotting Maria in the corner, his grin became wider.

"'Ello Missy." The pirate said, his walk becoming steadier as he approached the girl. "You an' me… we're goin' te' have a bit o' fun, aye?"

The girls were frozen in shock, but as he said that, the ones surrounding Maria crowded in front of the girl defiantly.

The pirate took out his pistol with a frustrated snort and swayed it at the women in front of him.

"Anyone standin' in my way won't live te' see tomorrow morn'!" He roared, and the women cowered away from the gun, much to Maria's distress. She whimpered in fear as the pirate grabbed hold of her and tried to pull her out of the cell. The girl fought him desperately and he resorted to hitting her over the head with the barrel oh his gun. Maria yelped, then became quiet as she still struggled with him.

The pirate, becoming extremely frustrated, cocked the gun and pointed it at her temple. Maria gasped and started sobbing, which only seemed to frustrate him more.

"Come now, or I swear on me life I'll put this bullet through yer skull," he gritted menacingly in a disturbing moment of sobriety.

Maria could only do as she was told, for fear of getting killed, and she gave one last look at the women in her cell that could do nothing for her. The man pulled her roughly from the cell, shutting and locking it behind him. They disappeared down the hallway.

Each woman in the cell looked at the other in repulsion and helplessness at what was happening to their poor companion. Elizabeth herself felt useless and dirty for simply letting this happen. Tears pricked her eyes and she let out a single sob, which seemed to spur tears from everyone else in the cell. Who knew which one of them would be victimized next?

_X_

Weeks had passed, and Elizabeth gradually, though hardly noticeably became rounder. She was in her fourth month now, and it was only customary that she would begin to show. The captives had been aboard the ship for a total of two months exactly.

The pirates would single the girls out every few nights and take them to a secluded area and have their way with them. Weeks had passed and it was always the same. They treated the girls as if they were sport, like they were worthless, cheap whores.

Elizabeth, though she had felt incredibly sorry for it, had not been singled out as of yet. She seemed to be the only one, and she could not help but be thankful, for herself and her unborn child.

Though, the turmoil of those around her was nearly too much to bear. She could not stand to see the women that had already gone through so much become disgraced and traumatized by the hand of these filthy, morally lacking pirates. When the events taking place in the middle of the nights had reached their pinnacle, Elizabeth finally decided to take action.

During their usual activities of cleaning various areas of the ship, Elizabeth laid her rag down and stood with her jaw set. She strode purposefully to the captain's quarters; glad she wasn't stopped by any crewmembers.

Knocking roughly on the door, Elizabeth was taken aback when it opened swiftly to reveal a glaring captain.

Elizabeth regained her composure. "Captain Dominiquez," she began, her voice a bit unsteady. "I wish to speak with you."

Captain Bernardo scanned her, as if trying to figure out her moment. He grinned a moment later, however and opened the door wider, allowing her to enter.

Elizabeth did so warily and as soon as he had closed the door behind him, she began speaking.

"I've come to report certain hostilities and ordeals your crewmembers are forcing myself and my companions to endure."

The captain feigned a yawn and regarded her without interest. "Such 'hostilities and ordeals' as you call them are necessary for my crew to remain peaceful," he replied in his thick accent.

Elizabeth was outraged. "Peaceful? Are you mad? This is rape that we are dealing with!"

Dominiquez nodded thoughtfully. "Aye, it is such a terrible misfortune to fall upon you all. I am deeply sorry." He bowed his head.

Elizabeth's cheeks flushed in anger. "How can you just let this happen? This is morally wrong!"

At this, the pirate captain chuckled. "Lass, you're aboard a slave trade ship! Morales don't exist in such places!"

Elizabeth's eyes involuntarily began to tear. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded quietly.

Dominiquez chucked once again. "It raises a mighty fine profit, milady."

The girl's eyes flashed in anger. "You won't get away with this, you know!" She desperately sought her mind for some reason that his plans would fail. Suddenly, a thought struck her. "People in the colonies and in Europe purchase African slaves with dark skin! Won't it be suspicious if you're selling a group of white women? Surely that would lead to an investigation?"

The captain still seemed to be highly amused. "Even if we were headed for such places, there are valid reasons for selling white slaves. _Criminals _and those accused with _treason_ are often sold into servitude." He said, emphasizing those two words. "But it's no matter. We're not headed for the Americas, nor are we headed for Europe!"

Elizabeth suddenly became afraid. "Where are we headed to then, captain?"

He smiled a toothy grin. "To the border of Peru and Argentina, straight through the Straight of Magellen! Now, I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself there." He chuckled slightly. "'Tis a pretty scenery."

Elizabeth suddenly lost all self-control and she panicked, slapping him hard across his face. He regarded her with mild surprise, and when she raised her hand to slap him once again, he caught her wrist with a tight hold.

"I wouldn't be doing that, Lass." He grinned menacingly.

Elizabeth glowered at him. "I'm not afraid of you," she spat.

The captain gave a genuine laugh before turning serious once more. He roughly pushed her up again the wall and extracted a small blade from his belt and held it to her throat.

"I don't think you appreciate just how hospitable I've been especially to you, Miss."

Elizabeth swallowed, feeling the sharp prick of the point against her skin. "I don't understand," she replied unsteadily.

Dominiquez grinned maniacally. "Did you really think the crew and I haven't noticed your constant 'seasickness'? Can you honestly say that you believed we wouldn't know that sicknesses like that only last for days?" His grin turned into a nasty snarl. "Did you suppose that we were too ignorant to realize that as the other women gradually get thinner, your middle is getting larger?"

Elizabeth felt cold realization dawn on her, as she comprehended what was being said. Her eyes went wide as he moved the blade down to her navel. Pressing his face to her ear, he whispered menacingly.

"If you give me a good enough reason, I'll slice you open right across the middle."

Elizabeth could only nod dumbly. She had no reason to doubt his threats.

Captain Bernardo looked upon her face with a small smile. "Now, do you have a problem with my crewmembers?" Elizabeth compressed her lips together and tears fell from her eyes. She knew it was wrong, but she shook her head no.

"Good," came his reply, and he pulled her face roughly to his in a painful, gruff kiss. Elizabeth gave a strangled cry and tore away from him, wiping her mouth, though; she was overcome with fear at her sudden actions, wondering if they were enough to trigger him to kill her.

Dominiquez narrowed his eyes at her.

"You best be getting back to work, Lass. Else, I'll have ye' scrubbing the deck all night without food."

Elizabeth nodded dumbly and left as soon as she could, tears blurring her vision.

_-x-x-x-_

**Author's Note: I suppose this fiction is somewhat AU now, what with the sequel out. This mainly follows the first movie, and the occurrences of Dead Man's Chest obviously did not take place.**

So, am I the only one who was disappointed with the Will/Elizabeth romance content, or lack thereof, in the second movie? I was just about ready to strangle Jack Sparrow, actually. Is that bad? I was angry with Elizabeth for more than half the movie, especially when she gave no reason to Will for her actions! Anywho, I guess I'll just have to deal and hope for better in the third movie. Everything else was bloody fantastic! In the meanwhile, I'll rely on the pathetic amount of Will/Elizabeth fictions to satisfy my cravings. –Le sigh-

Oh, and I absolutely adored Tia Dalma. I think she was one of the strongest characters in the movie.

Review and I'll be happier.


	5. Chapter 5

At The End of the Day Chapter 5 

_X_

"Rise and shine, ladies!" A pirate called, banging on the metal bars of their cell with a force that sent the clanging sound jarring their bodies. "Come on! Get up, you lazy cats!"

A slight grumble arose from the cell as the women stirred awake and went to the meager breakfast left for them. Elizabeth stared into the watery, cold _something_ they called food. It was barely dawn, and the sight of it nearly made her heave. Turning, she gently shook Emily awake. The girl opened her eyes blearily and grabbed her own bowl, though, made no move to eat it. Emily's spark had gone, and it was merely Elizabeth's assurances and encouragements that kept up her will to survive.

Elizabeth remained quiet and submissive for the days and weeks following her confrontation with Captain Bernardo Dominiquez of the _Lady Maribel_. The other women grew silent as well, though it was due to the extensive trauma and pain they were forced to endure daily. However, not one of them suffered as badly as Maria had.

The girl would not eat, she would not sleep, and she would not talk to anybody. She would sit there in a stony silence with an eerily calm expression upon her face. When called upon in the middle of the night, the girl would go submissively, and she cleaned during the day without so much as a glance to her surroundings.

Elizabeth, along with the other captives tried their best to help her, to encourage her to eat and sleep, but she would either fail to respond, or snap back harshly.

Such was a time when Elizabeth had gone to comfort the girl who had randomly burst into tears during the night. The woman walked over to soothe the young girl, holding her close while stroking her hair.

"We're all in this together," Elizabeth had whispered. "We'll be alright."

Maria had then grown stiff in her arms and she pulled away. "You know _nothing_ of the Hell we have been made to endure! Don't you dare! Don't you _dare,"_ The girl spat.

Elizabeth sat, shocked, not quite sure of how to respond. "What do you…?"

"Curse you! Curse you and your damned baby," Maria cried, nearly shoving her away.

Elizabeth had pulled away, feeling perhaps, more lost and helpless than before.

Being cooped up together for so long allowed the women to get to know each other extremely well. During the few times the girls were not being worked nor called upon in the dead of night, they talked quietly when they were spirited enough. By listening silently to the women near her, Elizabeth gradually came to understand what exactly the matter was with Maria.

The girl's continuous rapes were traumatizing enough, and Elizabeth was heartbroken to know that the young girl had to suffer more than the rest of them. The older women looked upon her with the utmost sympathy, and when it seemed Maria had turned deaf ears to them, they would talk in hushed whispers.

"_Hasn't had her monthlies in weeks."_

"_Poor girl. She's far too young."_

"_I could never manage, not while knowing that it belongs to that… that pirate!"_

Elizabeth listened in horror to the women around her, her heart aching for the young woman. Indeed, Maria was carrying the child of a pirate of the _Lady Maribel_.

_-x-x-x-_

Commodore Norrington stared out into the sky, his face seemingly set permanently into a grim frown. Several crewmembers stood beside him nervously, and one finally spoke up.

"What are your orders, sir?"

James battled with himself; his want to rescue and protect his wife over protecting himself and those serving under him. His face set further into a frown as he finally made a decision.

"We make port at the nearest town," he stated grimly. "We best not chance sailing through it."

The crewmembers nodded and scurried off to relay the message, and the Commodore was left staring into the ominous black clouds swirling ahead.

_X_

The nearest port had been Porto Bello of Panama, and the four warships had made port just as soon as the storm hit, which was rather lucky for them. Once the rain hit, no person could see more than five feet in any direction they faced. James had left the ships accompanied by a protective guard, along with Will to survey the town. It seemed desolate, dreary, and uninhabited at first glance. Though, as they searched harder in the pouring rain, they found few residents in the dilapidated town.

Norrington stopped William in his tracks and pointed to what looked like an eatery, or the remains of one. There was a light coming from the inside, and it seemed there were more people there than anywhere else. Will nodded, and they, along with the guards entered the pathetic tavern.

The people inside were nearly as saddening and desolate as the town itself. They received not a greeting nor acknowledgement, the few natives staring blankly into their mugs. Will glanced around apprehensively and turned to Norrington.

"Something's happened here," he whispered, and James nodded his agreement. They each turned to several people in the tavern. Most were men, they observed, though there were few old women and several young children, hardly old enough to walk on their own. Not one person would answer to any of their questions, and as Will searched the tavern, he felt almost as saddened as any of them.

A soft muttering from a secluded corner caught his attention and he turned, peering into the darkness. A figure lay slumped across a chair and table, tankard of ale teetering dangerously close off the edge, held up by his loose fingers. He was muttering things in his sleep. Will approached cautiously, as the air around him reeked of stale alcohol and rotten fish. Though, something about the figure seemed quite familiar, and he wondered if there was a slightest chance that he knew the man.

Will stepped closer and nearly jumped out of his skin when the mug finally slipped out of the man's fingers and clanked on the ground. The man immediately jumped awake, pulling a pistol from his belt, cocking it and aiming it to Will with one fluid motion.

"Ye stay away from me," the man snarled before either man could recognize the other. Will swallowed, and the man lowered his pistol in slight surprise.

"This is interesting," he muttered, before returning the gun to his belt.

Will took another cautious step forward.

"_Jack?_"

_X_

Much to the Commodore's reluctance, Jack insisted they board the _Black Pearl_ to talk business. The crew nodded to the men as they passed, and Will noticed Anamaria was not present. As soon as the door to the captain's quarters was shut, James began the questioning.

"What's happened here?"

Jack sat down in his rickety chair and it groaned underneath his weight. "That blasted Captain Johnny Coxon and his blasted slave trading crew of miscreants," he replied icily.

Will and the Commodore looked to each other nervously. "Slave trade, you say?" James nearly whispered anxiously.

Jack nodded. "Aye. Took Anamaria, they did. Normally, I'd let them have her; she'd probably cause them more damage than any gun could. Though, I owe her too much, and as you both know, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow is a man very true to his word, and very close to his principles!"

Will raised his eyebrows and James nearly rolled his eyes. William pressed further. "So, you've followed this… this Coxon here?"

Jack nodded. "That I did mate. They've left no sign as to where they're going next, however, so I'm a bit stuck." He paused for a moment. "What did you say you were doing here again?"

Will spoke up first. "It appears that we are in the same boat, Jack."

Jack glanced around the room for a moment. "Right you are, lad. Ain't you perceptive?"

"Slave traders," James intervened, becoming impatient. "They've raided Port Royal."

Sparrow became somber once again. "Terribly sorry," he replied, and then looked to Will. "What's it to you?"

Before Will could even open his mouth, Jack answered his own question. "Elizabeth." At Will's pained expression, Jack nodded. "Well Mr. Turner, Commodore, it seems that we are indeed, in the same boat."

_X_

Commodore Norrington and William Turner had decided to part ways for the remainder of the journey, James continuing on with his warships, and Will going ahead on the faster _Black Pearl._ They had told Jack of their destination, and all assumed that it was there that Captain Johnny Coxon would make port as well.

The _Black Pearl_ was far faster than the British ships, and soon, the small fleet of warships was no longer within sight of the naked eye on the vast blue waters. A new spark of hope was aflame inside the young blacksmith, now that they were days ahead of the original schedule. He hoped desperately that he would be able to reach Elizabeth in time to save her, and though he knew it was selfish, he also wished to be there as she gave birth.

Lying alone in his swinging hammock in the still of the night, William was left to his own thoughts. His wife was constantly on his mind under the circumstances, but he never actually allowed himself the full luxury of remembering how much he loved her. Now, with hope restored, he dared to let his thoughts stray.

He fondly remembered her honey colored hair and how soft it had felt through his fingers. The curve of her smile and how it seemed he could never get enough of kissing her, holding her, or touching her. He had always felt that when he was near her, they were lost in a world of their own, where no one could trespass and disturb the deep feelings the two shared for each other.

He smiled softly, despite the deep ache in his chest and the emptiness that engulfed him while she was not at his side. The pain became overwhelming for a few moments, and Will held his breath as if that could help, squeezing his eyes shut. _Dear God, this pain is unbearable. _

William Turner was not a holy man, and he never had been. But lying there in the dark, feeling desperately lost and desolate, the blacksmith did something he had not thought of doing for years. He lay there quietly and prayed.

_-x-x-x-_

The air surrounding the women was heavy with despair as each girl sat, white faced and stiff in the cell, not daring to sleep, not daring to speak. Most were crying, their strangled sobs disturbing the otherwise silent ship. Their number was one less of what it had been, and it was this absence that kept the women so ashen faced.

Sitting there in the dark, Elizabeth could not help but replay the events of the day over and over again in her head, trying to think of some way she could have stopped it. As the hot tears ran down her cheeks and her chest heaved with sobs, she realized there had been nothing any of them they could have done.

An invisible clock inside of her drove her to agony with each minute. It hurt her with its second hand, as it counted the minutes she was alone in this hell. The gunshot echoed through her mind once again and she sobbed bleakly, comforted by an equally distraught Emily.

There had been a brawl on deck that day. Nothing out of the norm; just two drunken pirates arguing over a trivial matter, turning to violence to solve their dispute. The captured slaves had never paid these petty fights any mind, as they were a common occurrence, and had continued with their work the best they could through the clashing of swords and laughter and cheers from the watching crew.

Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly as the memories surged through her once more.

_A pistol slid across the wooden deck after having been kicked out of a smaller pirate's hand. It stopped only inches from where Maria scrubbed dutifully. Her actions stopped, and she glanced to the lethal weapon, her body beginning to shake tremendously. She stood, gathering the gun unsteadily in her hands, staring at it curiously. It felt large and coarse in her hand, and her fingers held it clumsily._

_The two men had stopped fighting as the smaller one searched the deck for his gun. His eyes traveled up to the standing girl and he grinned maliciously._

"_Now, young missy, ye don't want to be playing with that. Someone could get hurt." He edged towards her with his arm outstretched, ready to take the weapon from her grip._

_Maria glanced around unsteadily at the crew, who had stopped to watch the progression. She centered her gaze on the single pirate who had deemed fit to torture her the most, the first man to beat her, and the first to take her during the night. Something inside sprung a leak and she began to cry, her shoulders shaking with the weight of each sob. The crew eyed each other dubiously, worried now that the girl was not in a right state of mind and was currently holding a very deadly weapon. _

_The pirate whom the weapon belonged to edged forward even closer. "Now, now. I'll be needing that back. No one wants to get hurt." _

_Maria took a step back to the rail and glanced at all of the women now watching her worriedly. She gave a pathetic half smile before cocking the pistol and aiming it to her hated pirate. _

_A single shot rang._

_The pirate fell to the floor before he could even comprehend what had happened. The crew stood stock-still and silent as the blood from their dead companion began to pool on the deck. A door slammed open, then shut and the captain emerged from his quarters, his face questioning. He first spotted the pirate, and he scourged the deck with his eyes until they rested upon the girl holding the gun with shaking hands. He bared his lips with rage, yet dared not go near her._

_The clicking of the pistol sounded once again as it was cocked once more. _

_Elizabeth needed only to see Maria raise the gun to her mouth before she turned quickly away, shutting her eyes and closing her ears with the palms of her hands. _

_The second gunshot echoed through her mind anyways._

Elizabeth hated herself. She hated herself because she did nothing to stop it, which was very much like the way every woman inside the cell felt. Perhaps if they had all done something, Maria would still be alive and with them.

Captain Bernardo Dominiquez was hated among the women. Hated with a burning passion. Elizabeth seethed with anger at the mere thought of the vile man who had so mercilessly watched them all as they had scrubbed the deck free of the blood that had belonged to their friend and to one of their captors. She still felt the heat of his gaze upon her back.

Sleep would not claim her that night, nor would it anyone else. The ticking of the clock in Elizabeth's head was never ending, causing her head to throb with pain with each timely _tick tock._

Elizabeth was in pain from head to foot. She pained emotionally and physically. Her hair was stiff with grime and sea air, her face dirty and smudged. Her once white sleeping gown was now discolored with substances she had unwillingly cleaned off the ship. She felt dirty all over. Above all, however, she pained internally. She pained for her husband, longing to feel the strength and security of his arms around her once again. She was quickly losing faith, cursing life and God if there were any such thing. It was said that in one's time of dire need, a savior would be sent to free one of a hellish prison.

There were no saviors. There were no angels. There were no heroes. There was no hope. Not for her, not in the least bit. She was stuck there, in her prison, with no way out.

She still felt as if her hands were stained with blood.

_XXX_

**A/N:** Sorry it's taken longer than usual to update. Life and general laziness took over for a bit. I've decided I'm shutting my eyes against Jack/Elizabeth, and I'm living in a bubble, where Will loves Elizabeth and Elizabeth loves Will, and they're populating Port Royal with little Turner's everywhere. Isn't that nice?

Please review. It makes the inside of my bubble nice and cozy.


	6. Chapter 6

**At The End of the Day**

_Chapter Six_

X 

Elizabeth did not keep track of the days, no longer caring really, for they had already spent so much time aboard the _Lady Maribel._ She knew it must have been well over four months now though, for there had been that many full moons. Not that it mattered anymore; time was only a delusion.

The deep pit of loneliness seemed to reach its pinnacle that day, as they were served their pathetic excuse of a breakfast. The pirate had jarred them awake as was usual and as he slopped the concoction of slime into their bowls he mockingly wished them all… a merry Christmas.

That had come as quite a shock. Elizabeth had forgotten all about holidays that were usually filled with love and happiness. Such things, she mused, didn't exist out here. She had almost laughed at herself, that she could forget and just automatically assume that since she had forgotten, everyone else would have as well, and such days as Christmas were never alive in the first place.

Elizabeth preferred to laugh at her foolishness, and yet she cried. The girl had grown accustomed to the salty water adorning her skin as of late. She was surprised she hadn't dried up yet from the amount of tears she had shed.

Yet, it seemed that despite the hopelessness of the situation, someone wanted to remind Elizabeth that there was still hope, and that she was strong enough to overcome this hellish ordeal. A soft fluttering inside of her immediately quelled her tears, and she placed a hand upon her now well-rounded belly, feeling slight vibrations that raised her skin.

The woman smiled, possibly her first time in months. Perhaps Christmas did exist out here after all.

_-x-x-x-_

A dismal fog covered the water for as far as one could see. Suited his mood perfectly, this fog did. It was bleak and miserable.

William Turner sighed as he blankly stared down into the dark water visible underneath the swirling mist. His thoughts were escaping him, as they were prone to do as of late. This time, he was recalling a moment exactly one year prior to this day. Christmas.

"_Mr. Turner, would be so kind as to please tell me where we're headed?" Panted Elizabeth as she struggled to keep up with her husband as he walked briskly down the road._

_Will smirked and slowed down a bit, encircling her waist with his arm. "If I told you, it would ruin the surprise."_

"_We're going to be late for my father's dinner," the girl complained, yet her husband did not answer._

_Elizabeth scowled but continued onward, becoming slightly confused as William stepped off of the road and onto a long, gravelly driveway. The driveway led to a small, white house set apart from the busy town. It was quaint and pretty, not grand enough to be considered a mansion, yet large enough perhaps for a small family. _

The woman paused and looked up at the house. "Will, aren't we trespassing on someone's property?"

_Will turned to her and smiled warmly, enveloping her in his arms. "My darling, this is _our_ property," he whispered._

_Elizabeth looked to him, slightly confused, before she understood. Her face lit up and she nearly jumped onto Will, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she kissed his lips. He chuckled and kissed her back, lifting her off the ground slightly. The couple was oblivious to anyone who may have been watching._

"_Merry Christmas," Will breathed softly after they had broken apart. Elizabeth smiled even wider and kissed him again. _

"_Thank you," she murmured against his lips before he lifted her up into his arms and carried her into the house.  
_

William felt the sting of tears as the fond memory plagued him. He blamed himself for this whole ordeal. Perhaps, maybe if he had listened to Elizabeth and had been home, he could have protected her. He could have stopped all of this from happening, and Elizabeth would be safe.

_-x-x-x-_

The women inside of the cell had become accustomed enough to the constant motions of the ship to know that they had stopped. They had not been brought out to work that day, and not one of them knew what was going on.

There were no windows in their cell, so they could not be sure as to whether or not they were on land. Was this where their journey would end? Would they be sold now?

Elizabeth looked down at herself. She was still covered in grime and her belly was swollen. Anyone would not be in their right mind if they wished to purchase her, she thought with some hope. Perhaps she would be unwanted? Elizabeth hoped this would be the case. Maybe they would let her go. However, after the ordeal she had already been forced to endure, she found it difficult to be optimistic.

A commotion on deck was heard and all whispers between the women quelled as they listened. The loud footfalls of several men echoed throughout the cell as the door slammed open. The captain himself came down the stairs leading to the brig, flanked by several of his crewmembers.

With a scowl on his face, he stopped at the cell and shoved the key roughly into the lock. "Get up," he barked loudly, and the girls nearly jumped to their feet. Two of the pirates with him ushered the women with their weapons quickly out of the cell and up onto the deck.

Elizabeth immediately realized something was amiss. There was an unfamiliar ship anchored several yards away from their own ship, and there were unfamiliar men on board. One, she noticed, seemed like an important figure. The captain most likely, she mused. He was a tall, middle-aged blonde man who would have been handsome if not for the hardened, merciless expression permanently etched into his features.

Captain Bernardo Dominiquez actually seemed to be frightened of the man as he went over to speak with him, nodding towards the women occasionally as he did so. Anxious, yet curious, Elizabeth stepped closer to the two men as inconspicuously as possible to overhear anything that may pertain to them.

Dominiquez cursed. "I haven't sailed all this way just to turn back without any profits, Coxon," he said angrily.

The man referred to as Coxon bristled. "You will get your profits, Bernardo, but as you work for me, I deserve half of what you earn. Since I do not trust you, I will ensure that my half is given to me by taking half of your cargo. I'll transport them to the Straight, and you will turn back."

Bernardo opened his mouth as if to protest, but Coxon stepped forward menacingly and cut him off. "Is that understood?" He gritted through his teeth.

Dominiquez swallowed his words and nodded dumbly before turning away with an even more pronounced scowl.

Captain Johnny Coxon then stepped slowly to the girls, his eyes scrutinizing slits. Elizabeth immediately realized he was a man to be reckoned with. He scanned them over quickly with a slight nod to himself, his gaze lingering on her momentarily. She didn't need to be told why. With her pregnancy along nearly six months, the woman stood out like a sore thumb.

Then, so suddenly, she wasn't quite sure what was happening for a few moments, she was being jostled to the railing of the ship along with half of the other girls. The other half was ushered back down to the brig.

"Elizabeth!" The woman turned her head quickly to the sound of her name. It was Emily. She was staying aboard the ship, and she, Elizabeth was leaving her.

"Emily!" Elizabeth called back, moving toward her friend in alarm. Elizabeth's shoulders were grabbed roughly as she was forced down on her bottom in a small lifeboat. Overcome by the sudden fear of facing the rest of this horrid affair without her best friend, the young woman tried to fight back. She stood from the boat quickly, struggling against the man who tried to restrain her immediately.

"No! Let me go!" She yelled, her voice wild with rage and panic. "Emily!" Her friend was pushed roughly through the door leading back down to the cold cells of the ship. Elizabeth gaze one last feeble attempt to run to her friend, but was stopped by a horribly familiar clicking sound. She turned to find herself face to face with the barrel of a pistol, held by Johnny Coxon himself, and was flooded with fear. She instinctively covered her belly with her hands.

"There will be no disturbances aboard this passage," he yelled and swung the gun over to the girls sitting in the lifeboats ready to make their way to the next ship. Some yelped in surprise while others cowered away. "From any of you!" he added with a snarl, before disabling the gun and returning it to its holster.

Elizabeth was once more shoved into the boat, and this time, she went compliantly. Bowing her head, her shoulders shook with silent sobs as dread and utter helplessness flooded her. Comforting hands reached out to her and held her as the small boats were lowered into the water and began making their way to the ship.

The distraught girl looked up at the looming shadow that was the boat, the gold lettering depicting the name _Athena _upon the bow. Elizabeth scowled. The name was not fitting at all.

In a jumble of bodies and ropes, the women were brought up to the deck rather roughly, and Elizabeth found herself sprawled across the wooden planking as soon as she had strained while trying to climb over the railing. Breathing deeply, she was helped to her feet by one of her cellmates. The prisoners looked over to the _Lady Maribel_ and were almost sad to see it leaving. They had friends aboard that ship, and who knew if they were ever going to see them again?

The women barely had time to gather their thoughts before they were jostled down below deck and into the darkness of the brig. Some cells were already occupied, and Elizabeth did not find this comforting in the least bit. The prisoners were divided then, and very nearly thrown into separate cells. Elizabeth was pushed into one already occupied by three women, all of them of dark skin. Five other girls from Port Royal joined her.

Once sure that all of the women were locked securely inside the cells, one of the pirates spit onto the floor and turned to leave, bringing the lantern with him. The other pirates followed them out, and the women were left in complete darkness.

Elizabeth let out a short breath, refusing to let herself cry. She felt around for the wall and slid down to the floor with a soft whimper. A hand grasped her shoulder and she jumped in fright.

"Elizabeth," she heard a familiar voice whisper, and Elizabeth opened her eyes wider. The darkness pressed upon her eyes, and she was unable to see the woman next to her.

"Who are you?" Elizabeth whispered in return, her own hand grasping the hand at her shoulder.

A sigh came from her companion, and when she spoke again, it was evident she was crying.

"Elizabeth. It is only I. Anamaria."

_-x-x-x-_

Commodore Norrington occupied himself in his cabin, with endless scrolls and maps that he would pore incessantly over, sometimes without sleep. He sat, slumped in a chair currently, his fingers worrying into his temples. His wig was long since discarded, and shadows flickered across his unkempt face, cast from the single burning candle at the desk. He was reading a map of their voyage, counting the miles until they reached the Straight of Magellen. It was like watching a clock and waiting for the minutes to go by. The wait was excruciatingly slow, and with each passing minute, he felt that his darling Emily was in even greater peril.

James let forth a sigh and stood from the chair finally, feeling the bones in his back cracking from the sudden movement. He opened the door then and stepped outside, blinded momentarily by the afternoon sun. Walking out to the deck, he observed the ship and the ones sailing along beside his. Several crewmembers passed him and bowed their heads respectfully, a bit startled at the sight of their Commodore so unkempt. James just nodded in acknowledgement and continued walking the length of the ship, stopping when he reached the railing. He watched the horizon fixedly, his jaw set in grim determination, his thoughts hundreds of miles away with a wife he missed terribly and a friend he longed to see safe.

_-x-x-x-_

William sat against the railing with a length of rope in his hands. He continuously twisted it around in his hands, making loops and trailing the ends. His brow was set in an almost childlike determination as he pulled the rope taught, and then his shoulders slumped as it came straight as if he hadn't done anything to it.

Captain Jack chuckled in spite of himself. "Having trouble there, Whelp?"

Will raised his head at the voice and smiled cordially. "I'm afraid my help isn't needed, so I'm fixing my mind on something else." He began twisting the ropes once more as Jack sighed and joined him at the railing.

"We've three hundred more miles to go. It will take us another month to reach the straight, if Mother Nature's on our side."

Will did not answer, and Sparrow wasn't sure if it were because he was being ignored, or the young man was so wrapped up in tying his knot.

Jack frowned, not keen upon being ignored, if that were the case. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, after all. Lifting a small leather flask (which very much resembled the one Gibbs was currently missing), the pirate watched him for a moment, and sneered, as the rope produced no knot when pulled by the blacksmith.

Will, unrelenting, began tying it once more, oblivious to the Captain's watchful eyes.

Jack drained the flask and began drumming his fingers impatiently on the smooth wood of the _Black Pearl_'s railing. Will once again did not produce a knot, and he once again began fiddling with the ropes to no avail. Upon studying his hands for a moment, the captain realized the younger man's error.

"There!" he blurted, his hands itching to slap the blacksmith upside the head for his stupidity.

"What?"

"There. You have to put the end of the rope into that loop there." He crossed his arms indignantly over his chest, lest the whelp would dare and argue.

Will shrugged and did as he was told. He was surprised then, that when he pulled the rope taught, it had formed a knot.

"Jesus, bloody hell, _finally!"_ Jack sighed. "How long have you been working on that?"

The blacksmith shrugged again nonchalantly. "An hour, maybe. I just needed something to keep my mind off of things."

Jack rolled his eyes exasperatingly. He understood the boy's grief. Really, he did. He was going through a bit of it with the loss of his best crewmember, but he really didn't need to hear endless moaning and complaining about the love struck blacksmith's lost love.

The captain then turned to Will and gestured broadly with his arms to the deck around them. "You're a blacksmith. This here is a ship. Go and…fix something."

Will opened his mouth to reply with something witty, but he was interrupted by a shout from the man in the crow's nest.

"Sail ho!" The man cried, and a crewmember approached Jack with a spyglass. Sparrow peered through and his vision focused on an approaching ship.

"She's not flying any colors. We'll wait a bit until she does. Ready the English and French colors." Jack pulled the spyglass away and studied the looming ship on the horizon. A puzzled Will turned to him.

"English and French colors?"

"She's a merchant vessel, I'm guessing." Sparrow explained shortly. "Either of French or English origin. She'll fly her colors, we'll see them and fly the same, and she'll continue sailing along without disturbing us." Then, Jack turned and was faced with a now skeptical Will.

"And your Jolly Roger?"

"Oh, bloody hell, I don't have to go pillaging every ship out there. And besides, we're otherwise occupied at the moment."

Will sighed and turned back to the sea, watching the ship draw nearer.

"I don't see no colors yet, Captain!" The crewmember yelled again from the crow's nest.

Jack's brow furrowed in concentration before he raised the spyglass once more. Focusing it on the side of the ship, he read the name and cursed.

"Bugger. Ready the guns!" He yelled then, and the deck became a flurry of activity.

"Jack!" Will yelled after the captain, who was retreating to the wheel. "What's going on?"

The captain turned to William and pointed over to the ship. "That there ship is the one we're looking for. _The Lady Maribel_, was it? Yes, well, that's her. And she's readying her cannons, so I'm going to be intelligent and ready my own guns. If she wants a battle, she's going to get one." Then, turning on his heal, Jack hurried over to the wheel, leaving a very perplexed blacksmith behind.

"But wait! Jack! We can't fire on her! Elizabeth is aboard that ship, and I cannot risk her being hurt!"

Even as he said the words, he knew they would not be heeded. As much as he loved his wife, he knew they would be fools not to fight back. They would fight, and he hoped to God Elizabeth would not be harmed.

**-x-x-x-**

**Author's Note:** One million apologies would not even be able to cover the wait I've forced you all to endure. Life's just been so hectic, and I myself suffer from slothfulness. I'm sorry!

On the bright side, the bubble's going well, and Will and Elizabeth are reproducing like rabbits. Life's good.


	7. Chapter 7

**At the End of the Day**

_Chapter Seven_

_X_

The thunderous booming of cannons and guns echoed throughout the afternoon. The _Lady Maribel_ fought valiantly, but was no match for the greatest legend of the Caribbean. Indeed, _The_ _Black Pearl_ was faster and sturdier than the former merchant vessel.

Captain Bernardo Dominiquez chewed on the inside of his lip in thought while his crew scurried around him, some injured, others carrying cannonballs and guns. The Pearl was gaining quickly on them, and he had no choice but to retreat. The frequent screams and cries from the women in the brig carried onto the deck and seemed to make the captain and crew even more frantic.

Suddenly, a cannon sent by the looming black ship exploded the railing merely feet from him and he careened over to the floor. Wood chips and small bits of metal dug into the flesh that was exposed, and he growled in anger and pain as a particularly thick piece of metal wedged itself deep into the skin of his neck. He sat upon his knees and grunted as he held his hands up to the affliction, and with precise fingers, he pulled the long wedge out, feeling blood immediately gush out of the wound. Tearing off his ornate scarf, he held it to the cut tightly and stood unsteadily, glancing wildly around at his crew.

"Retreat!" He yelled hoarsely, and he hated himself for it. He was a pirate captain, and a captain never retreated from a battle. Several of his crewmembers stopped short and stared at him incredulously.

"Sir?" The first mate questioned, and Dominiquez snarled at him.

"I said retreat, or I'll toss you overboard and leave you to be dealt with by them!" He nodded back to the Pearl and this seemed to spur the crew to begin moving, and they left the guns to prepare the sails and rigging for a quick getaway.

Reaching to his belt, Captain Bernardo extracted a spyglass and peered through to better see _The Black Pearl_ and it's legendary Jack Sparrow. The ship was still firing upon them, but they were moving away quickly now.

Upon realizing the merchant vessel was trying to escape, though, Sparrow's ship soon began moving after him, and Dominiquez cursed in fear.

X

The Black Pearl overtook the smaller merchant vessel easily and quickly. The _Lady Maribel_ was completely and utterly disabled by the time the crew of the pirate ship boarded the illegal slave trade vessel. Jack and Will were the first to board the deck, flocked by several of the strongest crew members, all of them heavily armed and ready to fire if provoked.

Jack squinted and looked around, spotting the Captain easily. He was flamboyantly dressed in Spanish garb, and was bleeding heavily through a scarf at his neck.

The prisoners below deck were still screaming and crying, and William was immediately alerted to the sounds. With a nod of Jack's head, he and a group of others hurried down the steps.

Jack looked to the other captain and smiled charmingly.

"Bad luck, mate," he said, and Dominiquez spat at his feet.

Sparrow frowned and motioned to his crew behind him, who all cocked and raised their guns, aiming to the now defenseless crew of the _Lady Maribel_.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't give the signal right now," Jack challenged, and Captain Bernardo seemed at a lost for a moment. He began to speak, but was interrupted by William bursting back up on deck, livid. A huddled group of girls followed. In a swift motion, William had his pistol out of his belt, cocked and aimed at Dominiquez.

"Where is she?" He bellowed, the vein in his temple throbbing as he kept himself in check and tried not to pummel this man into the ground.

Bernardo raised his brows innocently.

"Whom are you referring to?" He asked mildly.

"Elizabeth Turner!" Will yelled back angrily, his voice masking the deep fear he held.

Captain Dominiquez placed a finger to his chin in mock thought.

"Ah, yes, I believe I know who you speak of. She was a pretty girl, getting quite large around the middle?"

Will dropped his pistol as the air left his lungs quickly.

"Yes," he breathed. "Where is she?" His voice was quiet now, his anger gone and replaced by a fearful hope.

Bernardo Dominiquez grinned evilly, looking now at Jack Sparrow.

"I'll give you a reason not to pull the trigger, Sparrow. You see, I am the only one here who knows exactly where half of the 'cargo' has gone, and where they are headed at this very moment."

_-x-x-x-_

The _Athena _docked at the crude, makeshift harbor at midday and the sun was unbearably hot and beat down upon Elizabeth's back as she and the rest of her companions climbed off of the ship. She knew that as prisoners, they were being closely watched, but once her feet touched the sandy shore, Elizabeth looked around hopefully for a chance of escape.

Johnny Coxon took note of this and chuckled.

"Don't think you'll be able to run away from me, Miss. There's not but miles of jungle and swamp around here." He grinned widely at her, showing several yellowing teeth.

Elizabeth glared in disgust and walked foreword, following the crew who seemed to be headed for the thickest, darkest patch of trees. She was surprised, however, that upon walking through approximately ten yards of heavy thicket and underbrush, they stumbled upon a small clearing and a wide river. Tied to the bank were several long boats of a style that Elizabeth had never seen before. On the side of each were foreign, exotic markings, and had her situation not been so horrific, she would have liked to examine them.

She had no time to pause and look around, for she was shoved roughly ahead and she stumbled foreword, her bare feet squishing in the soggy riverbed. Captain Coxon began to address the captives, though, and Elizabeth stopped to listen to him.

"I'm afraid that this is the last part of our journey, and there are several precautions that we must take. I'm terribly sorry that you will not be able to share this experience with me and my crew fully, but this is to insure that you will not know the route to escape once we reach the village." He bowed his head, and Elizabeth gave a startled cry as she felt her arms yanked behind her body and a cloth pressed to her mouth.

Elizabeth knew what was happening now, as it had happened to her before. The woman struggled with all her might and refused to breathe in until she was dizzy. When she could no longer hold her breath, she unwillingly sucked in air through the fabric, inhaling the acidic fumes of the vile substance. Coughing and sputtering, her knees buckled, and out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth could see Anamaria fighting viciously not to be held down. She felt her heart beat slowly, and all went black.

_-x-x-x-_

Captain Bernardo Dominiquez spit once more, emitting a mixture of blood and saliva from his mouth. He was on his knees on the deck of _The Black Pearl_, his hands bound behind his back, and William Turner was viciously knocking him across the face as Jack Sparrow interrogated him.

"Last chance, mate. Tell me where Coxon's headed." Jack folded his arms at his chest and walked carelessly around the other captain in circles. When Bernardo refused to speak, Will delivered another punch, and the captain spit a tooth. William looked up at Jack, and Jack nodded. Then, with a sigh, he retrieved his pistol, causing Dominiquez to widen his eyes.

"Wait! No, do not kill me! I will tell you!" He pleaded. Jack smirked in satisfaction.

"Enlighten us," he said with a flourish of his hands and stood back.

Captain Bernardo took a breath before he began to speak.

"They're headed to the Straight; just as we were. He took half of my cargo with him, your wife among them." He nodded to Will as he said this.

Jack smiled in gratitude.

"Well, thanks very much. That wasn't so hard, now was it?" The Lady Maribel's captain interrupted him, then.

"You must take me with you!" He cried desperately, and Jack rolled his eyes.

"Now why would I do something as stupid as that?" Jack asked, incredulous.

Bernardo searched wildly for a reason. He wanted to live. He needed to live. Perhaps if he could get them to allow him to survive, he would be able to do away with them before they reached the village. Johnny Coxon would reward him greatly for that.

"Because… Because you need me to get into the island!" He yelled desperately. "There are guards posted everywhere, most out of sight. You'd be dead before you get through the gates!"

Jack gave a frustrated grunt and turned away.

"Why can't anything be bloody _easy?"_ He yelled before turning viciously on the Spanish captain. "You'd best not be lying to me, mate," he snarled, his face inches away from the trembling Bernardo.

Dominiquez shook his head frantically, and Jack pulled away. Then with a look to Will, he motioned to their prisoner.

"What do you think? Should we keep 'im?" He asked desperately.

Will rubbed the back of his neck in thought.

"We don't have a choice, Jack," he said after a few moments. "If what he says is correct, then we need him."

Jack looked down in disgust at Dominiquez.

"Fine," he growled, and Bernardo's apparent happiness at his choice seemed to anger him more.

"Will…go and show him the same courtesy that he has bestowed upon those poor ladies," he said quietly, and Will smirked.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Will replied mockingly, with a look of anger and disgust to the now fearful Spanish man.

Will grabbed Bernardo roughly by the neck of his shirt, and Bernardo grunted as the wound on his neck was irritated. The blacksmith quite nearly dragged the captain down below to the brigs, where he roughly shoved him into a cell.

"I hope you'll find this accommodating, _Captain,"_ he sneered before locking the door and disappearing up the stairs to the deck.

When he returned to the deck, he found Jack peering out of his spyglass to the horizon. The rest of their crew had been completely disabling the _Lady Maribel_ and were preparing to burn it, along with the crew. Will did not believe in partaking in such things, so he approached the Captain.

"What are you looking for?" He asked quietly, and Jack handed him the spyglass.

"Look. Our friend, Norrington has just joined us," he pointed out, and once Will adjusted the spyglass, he too could see the approaching Navy ships.

Will smiled softly and looked over to the huddled mass of women on the deck. He could easily pick out Emily, and he grinned, knowing her nightmare would soon be over.

_-x-x-x-_

"Seriously mate, I'm getting so used to this, I'll be sad once you're out for my arse again when this whole thing is over," Jack remarked with a cheeky grin as the Commodore stepped onto his deck.

James chose to ignore this and shook Will's hand instead.

"What's happened?" He asked, taking note of the burning ship, and more importantly, of the group of women. With hopeful eyes, he looked to William.

"We caught up with them," Will said softly. "Only to find that half the women were transported through another ship. We're not finished with our journey yet, but we have been able to save a few."

James dared to hope.

"Is she? Is Emily…?" He searched Will's face, but the blacksmith only smiled. He needed not to answer, for Norrington had spotted his wife, and she him.

With tears in their eyes, but a smile on their lips, the two quickly found the solace of each other's arms, and James was showering her face with light kisses.

He held her to him tightly, mumbling nonsense as Emily cried into his shoulder. Will watched the two with a sad smile. He was elated for the two of them without a doubt, but the selfish part of him wished that it were he and Elizabeth in that situation instead.

James pulled away, his eyes brimming with tears.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice strained. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Jack nodded respectfully and Will smiled.

Norrington approached them both, Emily still in his arms.

"I will try my damndest to help you two as you have helped me. I will not rest until Elizabeth and Anamaria are safe with us."

xxxxxxx

**Author's Note:** You guys can go ahead and stab me all you want for making you wait so long for an update.


	8. Chapter 8

**At The End of the Day**

_Chapter Eight_

Hands rubbed and soothed skin that was sore and unheeded for months. Whose hands were they? They certainly did not belong to her, or any hands that she recognized. They were firm, yet gentle in their ministrations, and they seemed to be coated with an oil of some sort. She realized then that she was naked.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, but she had forgotten how to. She attempted to open her eyes and managed, but not by much. Only dark shadows and blurry images were visible to her in this state. The smooth, firm hands pressed against her belly, and Elizabeth then became alarmed. All thoughts of her own safety were pushed aside and only the instinct to protect her child overwhelmed her.

Groaning incoherently, Elizabeth thrashed her heavy limbs about. They were quickly restrained by more hands, smaller ones this time. The same oil-coated fingers rubbed into her temples, soothing her back into sleep.

A woman's voice hushed her soothingly. "Don't fret, miss. You're safe now. You're one of the lucky ones."

Elizabeth wanted to open her eyes and ask her what she meant. One of the lucky ones? Where were the others? What had happened to her?

She must have been mumbling, as the woman quieted her once more. The small hands went to stroke the sides of her face, and Elizabeth fell back into a troubled sleep.

x

When Elizabeth awoke again, the sun was glaring at her face through an open window of a hut. She blinked her eyes, adjusting her vision. Looking down at herself Elizabeth noticed further that her body was cleansed and she was fully clothed in a fresh dress of a style that she was unfamiliar with. She rested in a bed of soft animal fur.

Feeling slightly dizzy, the girl groaned and raised herself off of the comfortable bed. Once her feet hit the ground, she swayed, not quite used to standing. Elizabeth grabbed onto the edge of a small wooden table and used it to aid her unsteady steps until she became sure with herself on steady ground.

Nobody else was in the small hut with her, and so she went about exploring cautiously. The shed was made with mud bricks, topped with a straw covering bound by rawhide strips, as to not let the rain through. It was warm in the hut, but not uncomfortably so, and it smelled of wet grass and hay.

Looking about, Elizabeth noticed without feeling that all the furnishings were of English origin. They were no doubt pirated and stolen, she mused, running her fingertips over the dark cherry wood of a chair. The furniture was out of place in this small, shack-like domain.

Discovering nothing of importance, Elizabeth turned to the door, closed off with a straw flap. She was startled, however, to find a small girl standing quietly in front of her. The girl appeared to be no more than ten years of age. Her hair hung in tangled blonde ringlets around her dirtied face, which seemed to make her blue eyes stand out against the grime.

"Hello," Elizabeth said in a quiet whisper. She was unsure what to make of the situation. Was this little girl a captive as well? "What's your name?" Elizabeth stepped forward in an attempt to be friendly with the girl.

The little girl stared at Elizabeth blankly, before turning around the other way and running quickly out of the hut, leaving the older woman startled. Concerned and now bewildered, Elizabeth made to follow the girl, but her actions were halted by another figure emerging into the hut. This time, it was a woman several years Elizabeth's senior. She had corn-yellow hair that was bundled atop her head in a ridiculous bun, and her makeup was sloppily and crudely applied with cheap materials. Her corset was laced too tightly, and her dress several sizes too small, causing too much of her bosom to burst through the top of the gown. By appearances alone, Elizabeth guessed that she wouldn't be too fond of this woman.

"Ah, so the sleeping beauty awakes!" The woman said jovially in what she assumed to be a friendly manner, though Elizabeth heard the iciness behind the words. The little girl hid shyly behind the woman's skirts, peering curiously at Elizabeth with her large, blue eyes. "Tell me, miss. What's your name?"

Puzzled, Elizabeth answered slowly. "My… my name's Elizabeth." She paused, not knowing what to say then. The woman solved her problem with a smile and began to speak.

"I bought you. I couldn't let those nasty brutes keep you, what with you almost ready to give birth and all!" The woman laughed lightly, and then sighed. "Though, you were a heavy price. I had to pay for two, because of that baby. But never mind, I know it will be a good investment. Once that baby grows up nice and strong, we'll put some use to it."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed in a deeper confusion, and the woman laughed quickly. "Oh, do accept my apologies, Miss Elizabeth! I am Madame Charlotte."

Elizabeth bowed her head respectfully before speaking. "Very nice to meet you Madame, but, I'm afraid I'm still mightily confused. Where are the other girls?"

Madame Charlotte shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, scattered about the town. You bunch raised quite a fee." Without waiting for Elizabeth's reply, the woman took Elizabeth by the hand and led the girl out of the hut. "Come, I'll introduce you to the other girls you'll be working with. I expect you to go to work precisely three days after the baby's born. I know with your face, you'll bring good business." As an afterthought, she added, "Yes, finally a civilized and attractive woman… very good business indeed."

"Business?" Elizabeth asked curiously, and Madame Charlotte laughed in response. Abutting to the hut they had just left was a larger one, which Madame Charlotte led her to.

Upon entering, the first thing Elizabeth took note of was the sickly sweet smell of herbs burning in the fire in the center of the hut. The smoke escaped through a small hole in the ceiling, but the smell permeated throughout the hut nevertheless, making Elizabeth feel nauseous. After adjusting herself to the scent, she was able to observe her surroundings a bit more.

Inside the hut seemed to be the living quarters of eight women. Each had a bunk to themselves that was vaguely partitioned from the others, giving each resident a small amount of privacy. At the moment, the girls sat around the fire, all of them staring up at the newcomer.

Madame Charlotte regarded them impassively, and then spoke a few words to a particular woman who seemed to be in charge. She was middle-aged, and was dressed in a skirt and shirt that were heavily embroidered with beads and dyed porcupine quills, giving her a tribal appearance. In her hand, she carried a short whip made of several knotted strands of rawhide.

"Well, Elizabeth I do hope you get situated and comfortable quickly. You'll be living here for… quite a while." With a smile that was neither friendly nor respectful, Madame Charlotte nodded in her direction and took her leave with a flourish, leaving Elizabeth standing in the hut, surrounded by these women she did not know. The woman in charge grunted to Elizabeth, pointing with her whip to an unoccupied bunk in the corner of the hut.

The women in the hut were of varying ethnicities. Some were darker skinned, with high cheekbones, full lips and athletic bodies, while others were paler, with slighter builds not unlike her own, though not completely of the white race. She realized then that she was the only English woman there. All of the women were elaborately dressed in embroidered and beaded costumes.

Almost at once, the women stood and stepped closer to observe her. As they came to her, one by one, to touch her hair and skin, she noticed that they were wearing crude cosmetics much like Madame Charlotte. Berry juice stained their lips and cheeks, a poor substitute for rouge, and smudges of a sooty substance encircled their eyes.

One of those who came up to her was actually a man dressed in women's clothing, Elizabeth was astonished to see. His movements and gestures were as feminine as those of the others, yet the girl was still uncomfortable and unaccustomed to such behavior.

As nearly as Elizabeth could judge, all the women seemed to be young, and she was grateful that none displayed hostility toward her. Two of them came to her, offering her a gourd of berry juice and a pot of sooty material. Apparently, they meant her no harm, so she allowed them to amuse themselves by painting her lips and daubing her eyes. Giggling, the women tittered among themselves, admiring Elizabeth. Those who were not applying the makeup to her face stood close by and continually reached forward to touch her in wonder.

All at once, the middle-aged woman, who had been observing the activity from a distance, gave a command in a loud voice, in a language that Elizabeth did not understand, and cracked her whip. The residents scurried off to their own bunks and sat upon them.

A moment later, a burly man, his clothing dirty and his skin glistening with sweat, stalked into the hut. He moved slowly up one side of the room, pausing to inspect each woman in turn, and then started down the other side. Elizabeth noticed that the residents returned his gaze calmly, without embarrassment, but she took care to avoid his eyes.

When the man completed his tour of the hut he returned to a young woman directly opposite Elizabeth and offered her a few silver coins. The girl examined the coins carefully, turning them over in her hand, counting up the amount in her head. She then said something to the man, but Elizabeth could not discern what was said. A moment later she and the man stripped of their clothing and, without preamble, began fornicating on the bunk.

Completely stunned and mortified, Elizabeth realized immediately that this hut was nothing less than a bordello – a whorehouse. Worst of all, and with sickening clarity, she realized that she was now an inmate. Now she understood everything Madame Charlotte had said to her. She expected that she would work here, only three days after giving birth. The thought made her sick to her stomach, and Madame Charlotte's voice ringing through her head was only intensifying her nausea, "_You'll bring good business." _Elizabeth did not know how she would be able to tolerate the humiliation of allowing men to use her body for their pleasure. That right was restricted to one man only, her husband, and may God strike her dead if she would allow that to change.

The middle-aged woman moved closer, watching her face, the whip in her hand swinging back and forth gently. Elizabeth knew this creature would have no qualms about beating her into submission. Others were watching the whip apprehensively, and all at once Elizabeth realized that they, too, were captives who had been forced to become prostitutes.

Elizabeth could see no way out of the maze into which she had been thrust. It was her destiny to become a harlot for savage men in a remote Spanish colony deep in the wilderness. She now had only her still flaring hope that Will would come and rescue her in time.

-x-x-x-

The cell door clanged open roughly, and the sight accompanied by the smell of what was inside made William Turner and Jack Sparrow turn their heads away in disgust.

"Damn it," Jack muttered solemnly, turning back to the corpse of Captain Bernardo Dominiquez. "How many does this make, then?" He asked, turning to Will.

"Eight," the younger man answered. He was unable to look upon the body, and he was fighting the urge not to vomit. Flies were swarming around the cell, feasting upon the body.

Jack cursed and stalked out of the cell angrily. "Get that out of there!" he commanded a crewmember that was standing idly in the brig along with them. The man nodded quickly with a "Yes, Captain!" and scurried off to remove the body.

A month had passed since _The Black Pearl_ had defeated the _Lady Maribel_ in battle, and soon after, a sickness had permeated throughout several members of the crew. Fevers and rashes upon the skin broke out with fervor, rendering much of the crew useless. Those who were considered sickly or suspected of any foul disease were immediately quarantined and were isolated in the crew's quarters. Those who remained slept outside on deck or in the few cabins available on the ship.

Luck was not with them, however, and already seven of the sick men had died. Captain Dominiquez was now number eight, and by far the most devastating loss. However, with the speed the Pearl was able to make, they were clearly ahead of schedule, and were only two weeks away from their destination.

"This is not going to be as easy as we had hoped, Will," Jack said as he conspicuously held his nose shut as the crewmember passed, dragging the carcass along with him. The effect was upon Jack's voice, and Will would have laughed at the comical nasal sound of the Captain's usually masculine voice had it not been for the circumstances.

Will exhaled a breath he wasn't aware he was holding as soon as the body was gone. They followed the stench up the stairs, just in time to see two crewmembers heave the Captain's body over the edge of the ship.

"I know," he replied. Dominiquez was their ticket for safe passage into the village. Now, without him, they would have to fend for themselves and probably sneak into the town, undetected.

Jack sighed and wandered over to the edge of the ship. He watched the body float away with the current of the water, slowly passing by the ship. "Pity," he said. "I never had the pleasure of killing him myself."

X

The two weeks dragged by at an excruciating pace, but finally, Will and Jack reached their destination. It was a partially hidden harbor that held no more than three ships at the moment. To ensure that the Pearl would not be seen, and in the instance that it was it would be able to make a quick getaway, he had the ship anchored a mile away from the harbor. He and Will traveled on foot the length of the shoreline to the harbor. From there, they traveled inland, ever cautious of unseen guards scattered throughout the jungle.

The heat was contained beneath the canopy of the trees without ventilation, and sweat drenched Will's forehead and back, though he would not remove his shirt for fear of mosquitoes. One would assume that, being the southern tip of Argentina, it would be frigid. However, it was during the summer months, and Argentina was as hot as any other location in South America.

Jack stopped suddenly, and Will walked straight into him. Jack grunted with annoyance and motioned for Will to keep silent. Immediately apprehensive, Will stilled his movements and listened carefully. He heard nothing.

The sound of a twig snapping to his left caught his attention, and he turned quickly, peering through the thick underbrush. He was unable to discern any movement. He nearly turned away, when another twig snapped, this time, at his right. All of his senses became alert, and Will realized then with dread, that they were surrounded.

The cock of a pistol was sounded then and a man came from his hiding place, pointing the gun at Jack. Jack heaved a sigh of exasperation and raised his hands over his head.

The man inquired to them in Spanish, and Jack regarded him blankly. "Come again?" he asked politely. Will refrained from rolling his eyes. This is no time to be glib, he thought.

"What business do you have here?" The man asked once more, this time in a heavy Spanish accent.

Jack threw him his most charming smile and waved his arms around to their surroundings. "Oh, just… sightseeing. I can see we're not welcome here, so I suppose we'll just take our leave now."

The man conversed with another man who nearly appeared out of nowhere, and after several moments he turned back to Jack with a smug grin. "Jack Sparrow," he chuckled. "We've been expecting you."

Jack raised his eyebrows, but he was able to disguise his surprise well. "How lovely! Am I to be invited for a cup of tea, then? May I make a special request? I hear Spanish rum is excellent!"

"Very funny, Sparrow," the man replied humorlessly. He walked forward to stand next to Jack, jabbing the pistol into his ribs. "Now let's go. We've kept a cell waiting for you."

Strong hands grabbed at Will, forcing his arms behind his back. His hands were shackled together with a thick chain, as were Jacks. Will dared not say anything, but he longed to turn around and defend himself against these brutes. Soon, they were being pushed through the underbrush. The men had no sympathy for Jack or Will, not pausing when either of them stumbled on hidden roots. They only laughed and pushed them further.

They came upon a large, wooden gate. Will guessed this to be the entrance to the village, and he soon found out that he was correct in guessing so. The gate opened, revealing a bridge over a stream, resembling a moat of the feudal ages of England. A heavily built man, stripped to the waist and carrying a long leather whip, pointed inland.

The two prisoners moved forward. Their chains, weighing down their arms behind their backs, were so heavy it soon became agony to place one foot in front of the other. Soon both were panting for breath as they made their way up a dirt road under a blazing tropical sun.

In spite of the tremendous difficulty, Will took note of their surroundings. They were in a small village that resembled those of Native Americans in the Americas. Small huts and shacks lined the dirt roads. Some were small shops and stores, with signs in Spanish hanging out in front of them.

They passed a rather large church compared to the rest of the buildings. A crowd of worshippers was emerging as the two captives were driven past. The Spanish men glared in their direction as the women dutifully averted their gaze. Will wondered just how many of them were there by force.

Will suddenly stumbled upon the dirt road, his foot catching on a wayward stone. The heavy set man from before cursed, and the whip sang out, cracking viciously as it landed on Will's back, slicing through his clothes. The shock of the blow and the searing pain that followed caused him to groan. He struggled hard in an attempt to rise, but the expertly-wielded whip struck him again and again.

Jack looked to the younger man, and he was overwhelmed with sympathy. This was an unnatural feeling to him, as he was usually indifferent to most of his companions. But he knew that Will was unaccustomed to such pain, and that he could probably tolerate it better than the boy could.

In a rare moment of heroism, Jack deliberately fell to one knee. The man transferred his attentions to the second captive, giving Will time to summon his strength and haul himself upright again.

The whip landed on Jack's back, and although he knew it raised an ugly welt, he gave hardly any indication that he felt the agonizing sting of the rawhide. He suffered a second blow in stoical silence. Only when he was certain that Will was standing again, able to move on, did he rise to his feet.

The cuts on their backs smarting, perspiration drenching them, mingling with blood, the captives staggered on. After a seemingly endless march, Will realized they had reached a small fortress, totally out of place in the village. It was made of stone, and a gate with rusting metal closed it off to the rest of the town. Several men armed with muskets were stationed at intervals on the wall, most of them dozing in the hot sun.

Will sensed the ordeal was coming to an end. He was right. A gate creaked open and the prisoners were half carried, half pushed into the building.

They found themselves in a large room, and at least it was cooler here. But their relief was short-lived. Seating behind a large desk was the most repulsive man Will had ever seen. He was so badly overweight; he put Mr. Brown, the blacksmith, to shame. He seemed to have a succession of chins, all of them unshaven, each melting into the one below it. His corpulent body bulged beneath his soiled clothes, the open collar of his tunic was drenched with sweat and he exuded an offensive odor. Picking his yellow teeth with the point of a dagger, he paused to scrutinize the captives, and then cleaned his filthy fingernails with the blade.

To their surprise, he addressed them in strongly accented English. "Welcome to your last home on this earth," he said in a deep, grating voice. "How long you will be my guests, no one can predict. Some die in a few days, others linger for weeks, but no matter what your stay, the day will come when your bodies will be given to the vultures that wait for you in the courtyard."

He raised a fat hand to have them removed from his presence, then decided he had something more to say to them. "Captain Johnny Coxon is a most compassionate man. He could have handed you over to my hangman or my torturers. But you have committed no crime other than coming to save your loved ones. In doing so, you have laid eyes upon this village. Anyone who does not belong here will not live long enough to tell others of its whereabouts." He paused, for the effect, playing with them. "The Captain is deeply sympathetic, and he has said that he will look into your specific cases." His high-pitched giggle echoed through the room. "It is a pity for you that those investigations will not end until your souls have left your bodies."

As he giggled once more, Will restrained against his captors. "You pig! Tell me where she is!"

His interest piqued, the man shifted in his seat, causing his fat to wobble on his person unattractively. "Who, boy?"

"Elizabeth Turner! She was kidnapped, and brought here as a slave. Tell me where she is!" His voice was angry as he restrained against the men holding him back, but his eyes were pleading.

"I think I know of the one you speak. She was the heavy one. With child?" He grinned knowingly, waiting to see the boy's reaction.

All of the air left Will's lungs at the mention of Elizabeth and his unborn child. "Yes," he breathed. "Is she here?"

The man stood, which was just as unbecoming to him as it was sitting. He was as wide as he was tall. "Yes, my dear boy, she is here!" He giggled again at Will's expression of hope. "In fact, just three days ago she was sold to the whorehouse! I'm sure she's enjoying her stay, don't you?" With that, he motioned to the captors, and they pushed Jack and Will away, down a flight of stairs.

"You bastard!" Will called out to him. The man's high-pitched giggled followed them down the corridor, mocking him and making his cheeks burn.

They were hauled down one flight after another, and Will managed to count four flights of stairs before they finally reached the bottom, where it was cold and damp, and smelled sourly of mold.

"I bring company for you and your rats, Miguel," the man holding Jack said to the guard. "The warden orders you to place them in the large cell."

The guard was startled. "But I cannot, Francisco. You know very well that-"

"I know enough to obey the warden's orders so I'm not put in chains myself. Hurry, will you? This place makes my flesh crawl!"

The guard yawned, stretched, and produced a key to a metal door, which creaked open. The prisoners were dragged inside and their chains affixed to large support beams ten feet apart.

"I'll feed you now," Miguel said, "and then I won't have to bother again until tomorrow." He left the cell, returning moments later with chunks of stale bread and bowls that contained what appeared to be watery oatmeal.

When he left once more, the cell was plunged into darkness. The heavy door creaked shut, and the key grated harshly in the lock, mocking them of their captivity.

Jack was the first to break the silence. "I was told that the Spanish cuisine was excellent, but I'm afraid the reports were a trifle exaggerated."

X

Jack and Will were awoken from a fitful slumber by the sound of the key turning in the lock. They started, sitting up, though hindered by the heavy chains that bound them. The door opened, and the men could see the silhouette of the guard dragging in another prisoner. They were surprised to see barely the figure of a woman.

"You are a stupid woman," the guard told her. "Surely you know that you are fighting a battle you cannot win. It is madness to oppose the station given to you by your master!"

"Then I am mad," she replied, and Will immediately recognized the voice, though he could not directly place it. He felt Jack stir beside him in recognition as well.

"When your masters lose patience with you, you'll die here."

"If it is God's will, then I shall die," she said.

The guard shrugged, turned, and left the cell, locking the door behind him. Will remained silent, not daring to say anything.

Jack was the one who broke the silence. "Ana!" He exclaimed, and as the girl's eyes became acclimated to the dark, she was extremely surprised when she saw him and Jack.

"Jack! Will! You've made it!" Her wide smile faltered then. "And you've landed yourself in jail. Nicely done, Jack."

"Hey now, it wasn't entirely my fault!" Jack exclaimed in his defense.

"Oh I'm sure. It was _mostly_ your fault." Jack grinned at this statement of hers.

Typical, Will thought to himself. Jack finds the woman he has been meaning to rescue, and upon finding her, they bicker. Leaning forward against the bars that restrained him, he addressed Ana Maria excitedly.

"Have you seen Elizabeth?"

Ana nodded slowly, and then confirmed what the warden had said. "She was sold to a brothel, William. But I know that she will not be put to work until the baby is born." At this, Will sighed with relief. They still had time.

"How far along is she?"

"Eight months, and a week," was Ana's reply. "She's due in three weeks."

Will's shoulders sagged and he sighed in defeat. "We have three weeks to get ourselves out of this mess," he mumbled despondently.

Ana smiled to him comfortingly. "I have faith in us, Will. We'll get ourselves out of here."

-x-x-x-

**Author's Note: **Well, I'm back, and with a vengeance. I know, I haven't updated in… about a year now, and my absence has probably cost me some readers. For those of you who will stick through and continue reading, I adore you and love you. It was the most recent reviews I received that made me get my butt in gear and continue writing this fiction. As for the rest of this story, I'm on a roll. I'm excited to finish this, for I have a number of cool ideas swarming through my head. I won't make any promises, but expect Chapter 9 sometime within this month. And expect it to be a lengthy one. I have part of it already written, and I was going to include it with this chapter, but It probably wouldn't flow, and the chapter would drag. This one's lengthier than the previous chapters already, so I'm trying to make up for my absence!

And if you don't mind, go ahead and take a gander at my new developing fiction, "Of Pearls and Stars." Yes! I've started another fiction, and of course, it's predominantly Will/Elizabeth.

I told you! I'm back with a vengeance!

Until next time!


	9. Chapter 9

**At the End of the Day**

_Chapter 9_

Prisoner treatment in the Spanish jail cell eventually got worse, much to the occupants' misfortune. Each day their meager supply of food was systematically reduced. It was only a matter of time until they were starved to death.

Will knew that time was as great an enemy as his Spanish jailers. He knew that it wouldn't be long until he and Jack became so weak they would be incapable of even trying to escape, let alone rescuing Elizabeth. So he made his plans swiftly, opting for a more practical plan for escape than any Jack would have conjured.

He carefully watched every move made by the guard who came to the cell once each day with their food and water. Miguel was a husky Spanish peasant, and apparently had held his position for so long that he had grown careless. Instead of leaving his ring of keys at the cell entrance when he came in, he always carried the chain on his belt.

Will explained his scheme to Jack and Ana Maria, adding, "Sometimes the guard comes with food late in the day, sometimes early in the evening. We will act the first time he comes at night because escapes are always easier after dark."

That evening, he made a single, flat statement. "The guard is late," he said. "It is already night. When he comes we will strike."

They waited in a tense silence until they heard the key turning in the rusted lock. Will immediately lowered himself to the floor and pretended to be asleep. Miguel came to the cell, and, as always, he brought Ana her food first.

"The prisoner at the far post may be ill," she told him. "He seems to have lost consciousness.

The guard thought it strange that a captive who had spent less than a week in the cell could have collapsed so soon, but prisoners were unpredictable. Moving closer to the figure sprawled on the stone floor, he bent down to examine the man more closely in the light of his candle.

Will moved with speed and precision that were all the more remarkable as he was hampered by his heavy chains. Knocking the candle from the startled Miguel's hand, he looped one length of his chain around the guard's neck and began to strangle him.

Miguel struggled wildly in an attempt to free himself, but had too little breath to cry aloud.

Showing no mercy, Will did not relax his pressure until long moments after Miguel went limp and stopped breathing.

This was no time for talk, and the young blacksmith removed the key ring from the guard's belt, and then tried several of the keys until he found those that released his wrists and ankles.

Next he unlocked Jack's chains, who regarded him incredulously. Will handed Jack the keys quickly. While Jack unhooked Ana's chains, Will searched the guard's body. He had been carrying no knife or pistol, but in his hip pocket was a club about eight inches long weighted with lead. It would suffice.

Ana fell in behind Will and Jack as they headed toward the door. Suddenly, Will halted and removed his moldering boots and filthy stockings. Making no sound, he started up he first flight of stone steps, halting and raising a hand in warning after he had counted fifteen steps.

Jack and Ana halted obediently, though Jack was a bit miffed that he was not the one in charge. Ana sensed his pride was being wounded, and she gave him a warning look.

Still moving like a wraith, Will climbed the last five steps, and on the landing he saw another guard, dozing in a chair beside an oil lamp. Approaching silently, Will raised the club and brought it down with all his might on the Spaniards head. The man was dead.

Before he could be plagued with regret and guilt of already killing two men, he focused his mind solely on Elizabeth. This was all for her.

An ancient musket stood propped up against the wall, and the young man seized it, saw it was not loaded, but nevertheless took it. The gun was so old it would require a long time to load, but it might prove useful in other ways. He returned to the stairs, beckoned, and handed to musket to Jack.

Employing the same technique, they climbed to the next landing. There a more difficult situation arose. The guard on duty outside the cell block was drinking from a bottle and looked up just in time to see the man in dirtied clothes creeping towards him. He tried to shout and raised the bottle to protect himself.

He didn't have a chance. Will struck again with a vicious accuracy, and the Spaniard slumped to the stone floor, the partly-consumed bottle still clutched in his hand.

He, too, carried a lead club. Will took it, and the climb was resumed.

At the next landing the door leading to the cell block was open with no guard in sight. It appeared he was giving his prisoners their evening meal. The trop moved swiftly toward the last flight of stairs. Ana lifted her skirt so she could run more easily, and both Will and Jack wondered vaguely how anybody ever managed to get the girl into a skirt in the first place.

Now, as all three knew, they were in the gravest danger. They were approaching the ground level, where it was likely they might encounter a number of guards and soldiers. Jack moved up beside Will, and they advanced together, with Ana two steps behind.

As they approached the top of the stairs, Will put a hand on the Captain's arm and they both halted. They could hear a murmur of several men's voices above them, but Will heard something else too, and listened intently. Ah! A heavy rain was falling, beating against windows. He was pleased. If the sentries stationed along the walls of the prison were as indolent as the guards, they would have sought shelter from the downpour.

Advancing two more steps, Will saw four guards seated around a table, playing cards by the light of an oil lamp. The guard who sat facing them posed the greatest hazard because he would see them instantly if he happened to glance in their direction.

Retreating a step or two William silently indicated his plan. Testing the leaded club he held in his right hand, he climbed boldly to the top of the steps, well aware he never had thrown such a weapon.

He had only one chance. He hurled the club at the oil lamp. Before the startled card players knew what was happening, the lamp shattered, its glow extinguished.

Leaping forward into the dark, Will used his remaining leaded club to smash the head of one guard, then turned and accorded the same treatment to another.

Meanwhile, Jack, grasping the old musket by the barrel, brought the butt down with full force onto the head of the guard who faced the stairway.

Only one guard remained, but at that critical instant the blood-smeared, slippery club fell from Will's hand. At a loss, Will became still for a moment, and in that instance Jack took action instead, without hesitation. Jack threw himself at the Spaniard, and they fell to the floor. The guard tried hard to protect himself, but he was no match for his wiry and more athletic foe in hand-to-hand combat. Before he knew what was happening, Jack snapped his neck, and the man was dead.

Ana stood at the top of the stairs, a hand pressed to her mouth as she watched the grisly, silent battle.

Will quickly went to the outer door, and Jack quickly shepherded Ana toward it. They emerged into the open and found they were standing outside the gate. The tropical downpour was so heavy it was impossible to see more than a few feet in the dark, but that was all to the good. Jack quickly closed the door, Ana pointed toward the left, and all three began to walk rapidly.

Looking back, William could see no one stationed on the wall. The streets were deserted because of the rain, so the trio encountered no immediate difficulties. Ana led them up one winding, deserted street after ahead stood a dark, silent hut.

"Come," Ana said in a whisper despite of the rain around them. "The owners of this house are English pirates under Johnny Coxon. I know for a fact that they will not be back for another week."

They entered the hut and remained silent for a long moment, before Ana once again broke the silence. "How long do we have?"

"There's no way to guess," Will told her. "The bodies of the guards might not be found until the watch is changed, which could be tomorrow morning, or they might have been discovered by now."

"When it is learned we have escaped," Ana said, "they will search for us here. This is my master's house. But we can go nowhere until we have cleaned ourselves and I change into some proper clothing."

Lighting neither candles nor lamps, they went to the rear of the hut, where Ana led them to a wash basin. Each one washed themselves as the other two allowed them privacy, and soon they were all cleaned and dressed in fresh clothes. The clothes fit loosely on Jack and Will, as the owners were of larger builds. Ana chose a pair of men's trousers and a loose fitting tunic, her customary attire.

Moving to the side of the hut, Ana took hold of a large box. Upon opening it, the trio was pleased to find a selection of swords, pistols, and knives.

Will felt far better able to face the uncertain future when he had buckled on a long sword, took two loaded pistols and additional ammunition, then slid a perfectly weighted knife of razor-sharp steel into his belt. Should another fight develop, he would give a good account of himself before he was killed.

The men weren't surprised when Ana Maria chose two pistols and a knife for herself. They regarded each other silently and respectfully before they decided it was time to leave.

Jack spoke then, determined to gain the upper hand in the situation once more. "It seems to me, now that we're more awares, we should go back into the jungle surrounding this place, and keep watch for a possible opening into the village without having half of its inhabitants out for our throats." Will and Ana nodded in agreement.

Ever conscious of the swift passage of time, they left the hut, carefully adjusting the flap behind them. Will advanced into the street, his gaze penetrating as he searched for any signs of enemies. The rain had stopped, and, as so often happened in the tropics, the sky overhead had cleared. There were stars everywhere, their position in the sky unfamiliar to the young blacksmith, and a half moon was shining overhead.

The young man could not help but stare in wonder and befuddlement at the small town. "What _is_ this place? I assumed there was no place inhabited by settlers this far south."

Ana Maria turned to him and grabbed hold of his hand, pulling him along further. "Well, technically, this place isn't supposed to exist. It's illegal, you see. I've gathered this much information from listening to the pigs who bought me. It's a marketplace, to sell slaves and goods to those who live here… usually those who are on the run from the law."

Will nodded in comprehension and although they were now moving quickly through the dirt streets, he looked around in a desperate attempt to find any sign of Elizabeth. He dwelled on the idea of stopping their frantic run to safety and demanded they parade into every hut until she was found and safe in his arms once more. Before he could make any rash decisions, however, they had reached the safety of the trees.

Momentarily at a loss, Will paused and looked about him at the brush surrounding them. Ana once again pulled him along with a roll of her eyes. "Come. We'll sleep until morning and then keep watch."

Will nodded dumbly and followed her along, glancing back at the village as though there was still any hope in finding her.

Daylight had come, and it was not until the three companions had found themselves a suitable shelter that they were somewhat certain would not be found that they allowed themselves to rest. They chose a small area resting on the side of a hill, enclosed by large plant life and boulders. Constantly aware of the ubiquitous danger, Will volunteered to keep watch while the other two rested.

He knew this to be a smart decision. There was always the possibility of detection, and Will also had a sneaking suspicion that Jack and Ana Maria would enjoy their time alone. As much as either or both denied it, it was plainly obvious that the two had feelings for each other; how deeply they felt, Will did not know.

William sat far enough away from them to allow them privacy, yet he was comfortable with the fact that if anything went wrong, he could find them quickly. He was also content with where he chose to sit, for he had a clear view of the small town and miniature fort down below them. From here, he could keep watch for possible openings into which they could sneak into the town undetected, and, although he knew it was probably hopeless, he could keep watch for Elizabeth.

With a sigh at the thought of his young wife, the blacksmith rolled his head back to rest against the tree he was sitting against. With each passing day, he grew more anxious and hopeless. Yet, his hope was renewed. She was here, in the town, and he had only to find her and bring her to safety. Though Will was completely at a loss at how he would be able to accomplish this, he knew it was only a matter of days now before they were reunited and safe.

A mosquito whined at his ear and he swatted at it irritably. Their shelter rested on a sandbar in between the split of a creek. They chose it due to the fact that it was protected by both distance and water, and the fact that they were surrounded by everything they would need. The mosquitoes were only a small price to pay.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Will turned quickly and was quickly relieved to see it was only Ana Maria. Her face was flushed and cross looking, and she moved in an irritable manner. It was not difficult for Will to come to the conclusion that she and Jack had been involved in another row.

"The insects here are ferocious," Ana said as she approached. "They're so tiny you can't see them, but they sting like hornets, and their bites itch like the devil."

"There are worse problems," Will replied. "However, I'm glad we've settled here. Less than a mile west there's a large swamp."

"Oh?" Ana answered, feigning interest. She was looking over her shoulder for any sign of Jack. She turned back to him and gave him a slight grin at his silent understanding. Then, she looked past him and studied an odd looking log a few feet away. Will turned his attention back to the village below.

All at once Ana Maria began to scream loudly, the terrified sound piercing the nearly silent air.

Will was on his feet instantly, moving in to shush her. He did not want to risk getting captured once more. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

Ana Maria became so frightened she could not speak. She seemed frozen then, unable to move, but at last, still hysterical, she pointed with a shaking finger.

Jack came bounding toward them, his face nearly livid and exasperated. "What the _bloody hell_ was that all abou – oh." He stopped mid-sentence and stared at what Ana had been pointing at.

Crawling slowly toward her was what Will had previously assumed to be the misshapen log. Will was stunned. This was no log. Instead, it was the strangest, most menacing creature he had ever seen. It was fifteen to twenty feet long, weighing hundreds of pounds, and it had a long, powerful tail that it switched from side to side. Will recognized the danger at once: a single blow of that tail could knock a man unconscious and render a man helpless. The beast was covered with a thick hide that resembled horned scales. Its eyes were located on the top of its triangular-shaped head, and when it opened its huge mouth, the young blacksmith saw two rows of yellow teeth so long and pointed, he knew they were an extreme threat.

Never had Will encountered such a monster, but after a few moments, he recognized it for what it was. He vaguely remembered perusing a book with Elizabeth, and the one of the characters had to face a deadly crocodile.

William faintly heard Jack swear under his breath, and the trio stood stock still, unsure of what to do for the moment. With a sickening realization, Will realized that he faced the alligator alone, as Jack and Ana Maria stood directly behind him, and neither had their weapons with them.

The alligator, moving with surprising speed, approached Will by supporting itself on its paws. Reacting quickly and staying clear of the creature's tail, Will fumbled along his belt quickly before grasping a hold of his knife.

Jack groaned. "Whelp, what are ye' doing?!" There was no time, he knew, to run quickly back to their camp to retrieve his loaded pistols to put a bullet into the beast.

The alligator opened its large mouth again. Will sent his knife flying into the alligator's upper palate, which it penetrated. The heavy tail thrashed violently from one side to the other.

William saw that the strong steel of his knife neither bent nor broke as the creature tried in vain to snap its powerful jaws closed again. He was uncertain that he could defeat the alligator. Reaching quickly for his pistol, he struggled with it in the holster. It would not budge out of the fine leather case, and panic was soon closing over him.

The pain-maddened alligator stopped advancing, but tried to turn sideways so it could avenge itself with its tail. Will instantly leapt out of the way.

This gave Jack a chance as he immediately saw the opening and took advantage of it. He reached for Will and yanked the pistol out of the holster, and soon thereafter, a pistol shot broke the quiet of the jungle. His bullet put out one of the alligator's eyes, penetrating its brain. The creature died slowly, its tail thrashing more and more feebly until it collapsed in the underbrush.

The trio waited for a moment in silence, watching and waiting for baited breath for two things: one, to see if the alligator was indeed dead; and two, to make sure no one from the village heard any of the commotion.

When several long moments passed without any cause for worry, they relaxed a bit and returned to the shelter. Ana was badly shaken, but Will had quickly put the incident out of his mind. He had survived, and henceforth he would be alert whenever he saw a log on or near the water's edge.

000

Ferocious pains gripped Elizabeth in the middle of the night. Bathed in perspiration, she awakened out of a fitful sleep in the bunk of the hut belonging to eight other women. Letting out a strangled cry, the other women heard her and awoke, immediately moving to crowd around the pregnant woman's bed.

"Move! Get out of my way!" grunted a rather frazzled Madame Charlotte. She pushed her way through the mass of women to get to Elizabeth's side. An almost mad gleam was in her eye as she observed the helpless girl beneath her. "Hurry, go get the doctor!" She commanded one of the women, and they set off immediately.

Turning back to Elizabeth she grinned widely, showing yellowing teeth. "Good, good, very good," she muttered to herself, grazing her eyes up and down Elizabeth's body. "It seems it's time. Yes, good. I've had customers who've been waiting. Oh! This is fantastic!"

She nearly shouted with glee and Elizabeth was filled with a sudden dread. She desperately hoped that now was not the time she would be giving birth. She didn't want to bring the baby into the world in such an unsafe environment.

Elizabeth's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, a heavyset, cheerful looking man. Smiling down at the young woman, the doctor adopted his most soothing manner. "I'd ask how you feel," he said, "but I have a pretty fair idea."

Elizabeth could only grunt in response, and the doctor quickly began examining her body. After several long moments, the doctor stood and wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. He turned to Madame Charlotte grimly.

"The girl is not ready. This is a false alarm."

Relief washed over Elizabeth's body, yet it did nothing for the pain she was experiencing. A rather prolonged cramp caused her to cry out and clutch her belly. If this was a false alarm, she dreaded the real thing.

Madame Charlotte looked concerned as she peered down at Elizabeth. "But will she be alright, doctor?!" She demanded of him. Elizabeth knew however, that she was only concerned for her wellbeing due to the fact that she had paid so much for her, and that she believed Elizabeth would be her prize woman.

Without answering, the doctor stooped down to pick up his leather pouch. He opened it and withdrew a brown bottle. Opening it quickly, he reached over and forced Elizabeth's mouth open and poured something foul down her throat. He closed her mouth before she could spit it out and she swallowed unwillingly.

"There, there," the doctor muttered consolingly. Turning once more to Madame Charlotte, he sighed. "I've just given her a tonic that should ease her pains. If she is not better by morning, come and fetch me, and I will examine her further. I will be back tomorrow nevertheless to check up on her."

Though, even as he spoke the words, Elizabeth's pain was subsiding and she was calming down. Her body was soaked with sweat and she was now rather cold because of it. The doctor took note of this and wrapped a blanket tightly around her form.

"Now, get some proper rest, and I shall be back in the morning, my child," he said with a small, pitying smile. Elizabeth did not know why, but she knew that this man was a prisoner of this place just as much as she was.

The next morning, just as the doctor had said, Elizabeth was further examined.

"You're healthy enough, young lady. Though, I'm afraid another episode like that could become disastrous. You've only got two weeks left, and then this whole ordeal's over. From now until then, I'm going to need you to stay in bed." He looked to Elizabeth to see if she understood.

Elizabeth nodded and sighed, placing her hands upon her swollen middle.

"I know, angel, I know. The wait will be tedious. I'll make sure you'll be comfortable for the weeks to come. I'll talk with Madame Charlotte and have everything arranged."

He gave a comforting smile, but as he looked over Elizabeth's body, his demeanor changed rapidly. He suddenly became quite nervous and he fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket. Looking around quickly to make sure they were alone, he leaned in closer to whisper to Elizabeth.

"I'm not even supposed to know, but word has been traveling around. There's been a breakout in the jail about a week ago. Two men and a woman," he whispered. Then, looking about once more, he continued. "The men were found in the forest surrounding this village… one of them, a young man, asked about you."

At this bit of information, Elizabeth immediately sat up. The doctor however was ever aware of his duty and pushed her back down. "I said you need to _rest_, Elizabeth."

"Tell me more," Elizabeth commanded. Should she dare hope…?

"He asked for you, that is all I know. The other man was an odd one… a captain I believe. But don't trust my word, I haven't seen them myself. They say they've killed more than five guards and escaped out into the jungle undetected. They sound more like ghosts, don't you think?" His tone was of jest, but his eyes were serious. Then, in an even more hushed whisper, he spoke once more. "I hate to see you here. If these men are here to rescue you, I will do anything within my power to help them."

Then, with a curt nod, he stood and proclaimed loudly, "Well, young lady, it seems that you are going to be just fine. Just plenty of bed rest. Don't get up unless absolutely necessary, you hear?" And without waiting for Elizabeth to answer, he bowed respectfully and left the hut.

Elizabeth was left to her own thoughts, her heart beating rapidly. If what the doctor said was true, her husband was here, and he was going to rescue her. The prospect brought tears to her eyes, and she laughed aloud. Madame Charlotte entered then, however, and Elizabeth swiped at her eyes. The ugly woman's presence was not enough to demolish the young girl's radiant smile.

000

"How do you propose to get into the village and look around, Will? I know some thoughts have been brewing in that teeny mind o' yers." Jack and Will sat facing each other in the shelter, as Ana kept watch outside. They had taken turns with sentry duty.

"I've been thinking about it ever since we've started hiding," the blacksmith declared. "I think it is highly unlikely that you will pass along, undetected Jack. You're too famous… or infamous, rather. People will know you. We'll be thrown in jail as soon as we show our faces."

Jack considered this for a moment. "I must admit, their dungeons are not made for comfort."

"Now, I've watched the village with great care, and I've noticed that once every few days, a shipment of people arrives. People are bartered into and out of this village. Men and women are brought here to be sold every week." William sighed then. The easy part was over; Jack was not going to be happy with the next bit of information.

"Ana and I will easily fit in. You'll have to wait here in the wilderness until we've gotten what we came for and need to make a quick escape. That's where you'll be able to help us." Will braced himself for the outburst, but it never came. Instead, Jack picked at his beard thoughtfully.

"Well… I like it. You and Ana go in, mingle with the slaves to be sold, manage to walk around, and I stay here, safe and sound. Bloody brilliant you are."

Will smiled grimly and stood. "We'll just have to keep watch for the next shipment. We need to find away to blend in quickly and easily without detection.

No sooner had he spoken that he heard Ana's voice calling out to them. Jack and Will joined her quickly and looked down to the town.

There were people coming into the village through the main entrance in the gate. There were men and women, all of them young and frightened looking. A burly man carrying a whip followed them, and Will frowned. He still had the lash marks from that whip. He was pleased to notice, however, that the long line of men and women strayed close to the edge of the forest. If they acted quickly enough, they would be able to sneak in and act as if they were lagging behind.

Will looked to Ana, who looked to Will and then Jack. They knew that the moment had been sprung upon them and that they would probably not get another chance quite like this.

000

**Author's Note: **Well, my lovelies, I would very much like to continue with this chapter here, but I'm afraid I'm dead tired and will probably end up procrastinating for another week or so before I decide to finish it. Here it is, enjoy, and don't forget to review!

Cheers!


	10. Chapter 10

**At the End of the Day**

_Chapter 10_

Will and Ana hesitated at the end of the cover of the trees. They looked back at the older pirate apprehensively, anxious looks upon their faces. William cleared his throat nervously.

"I want to impress just one thing on you, Jack," he said. "If—for some reason—we don't appear and the Spaniards have taken us prisoner—don't stay here in the hope of rescuing us. Go back to the Pearl as fast as you can and get the rest of the men."

Jack nodded. "Common sense, mate," he stated simply. He and Will nodded in regards, while he shared a look with Ana that William couldn't quite decipher. "Go on then," Jack urged, and Will took hold of Ana's wrist and led her out into the open. Jack watched, his face expressionless, as they crossed the open area, made their way up a rutted road, and disappeared behind the nearest row of crude dwellings.

Neither hurrying or loitering, the couple tried to maintain a steady, even pace as they headed toward the group of captured men and women waiting to be sold. They slipped into the ranks of the group without any notice, much to their relief. The guards were too distracted, and the slaves did not care enough to notice.

Will recognized at once the man with the rawhide whip and he bent his head low, averting his eyes. Should he be recognized now, he would surely be killed. He looked around at his companions and noticed that they all had their hands tied behind their backs. He nudged Ana and placed his hands behind him as if tied, and she followed suit.

There were two guards and they soon began pushing the group forward, into the town. With his head bent down, Will studied his surroundings as best as he could, stealing glances into huts with furtive eyes. There was no sign of his wife just yet, but Will was not disheartened.

They were approaching the heart of the small town, where a crowd of impatient people seemed to be waiting for them. Will was soon jostled along with his companions to a small wooden stage raised off the ground. The guards began yelling at the crowd of people and soon prices and demands were yelled out.

Will's face burned and he stared at the ground in a silent rage. This was an auction. He was being sold to these men and women as if he were an animal.

"That one! There!" A shrill woman's voice called out, and Will felt his arm being bruised with the rough grip of one of the captors.

"And her, that dark female," the same woman called out, and to his relief, Ana was grappled as well. He had not taken into account that they would be sold, and it was fortunate that the woman seemed to want to buy them both.

They were brought down off of the stage to the awaiting woman. Will looked upon her and was sickened. Her teeth were yellow, as was her hair, and her face was piled with makeup that did nothing to hide her unfortunate features.

With a superior grin, the woman approached the two and studied them both with heavy lidded eyes. She took hold of Will's jaw with her cold hand and tilted his face, a wicked grin spreading quickly over her slack mouth. Turning to Ana Maria, she ran her eyes down the youth's body appreciatively

"Yes, these will do quite nicely," she said softly. Money was exchanged, and the woman grabbed onto both of their shirt sleeves to begin leading them away from the crowd. "Now, don't even consider breaking away from me. You won't get very far until a bullet stops you." Her malicious grin made Will nauseated and Ana looked as if she wanted to smack the other woman.

"My name is Madame Charlotte," she said crisply, "and you will refer to me as such. I run a very strict business, and to disobey me will result in severe punishment." William and Ana exchanged glances, and Madame continued. "I run the whorehouse of this town. Obviously, you two will have very different jobs. You, girl, will room with the other whores tonight. You'll begin working as soon as you get your first customer. I receive all of the money made."

They had reached what was apparently Madame Charlotte's home, which was what seemed like a small hut in very close proximity to a larger one. She pushed her two captives into the smaller one and followed close behind. During this time, William and Ana Maria exchanged another, more excited glance. Both were thinking the same thing. They knew Elizabeth must have been sold to this woman.

They entered the hut, which consisted of one room. The only furnishings were a dark wooden table, a desk, and a bed heavily laden with fur blankets. The two turned and looked at Madame Charlotte expectantly. The woman fished around in a basket and threw them each a set of clothes.

"These will be your only clothes, so I suggest you take care of them. You've been traveling in those clothes for months, and Lord knows what diseases they're carrying… What are you waiting for? Get changed!"

Will and Ana started and turned red. They turned and began dressing themselves cautiously, aware that the woman was studying them intently as they did so. Will was painfully aware as she stepped a bit too close for comfort.

"You are a fine specimen of a man," Madame Charlotte commented, her eyes alight. "And I have a special job for you." She sighed dramatically and stepped closer to Will. He stood up straight, having finished dressing and stared ahead. "I'm afraid this is a dreadful place, and the rules are that one must fend for themselves. But I'm a busy lady as it is, and I cannot take care of every day things when I've got my whores to look after. That's what you're for."

Will looked to her, disgusted. She took it as confusion and continued. "Just ordinary chores you'll be doing. You'll be obtaining all the food for my households, for I am not fit to hunt or harvest. You'll do any and all repairs on furniture and the houses." Madame Charlotte smiled widely then, bringing her hand up to trace his shoulder. "And if you behave, I'll reward you kindly, with an occasional trip to my girls, or perhaps a night in my bed." She acted as if this was a rare treat and Will fought the urge not to be sick.

Nodding solemnly, a reaction Madame Charlotte found acceptable, her grin widened. "Excellent. You'll both begin immediately. Girl, come with me, and you follow. And bring those water pails. It's time for the girls to wash."

Will complied obediently and lifted the two pails easily. He followed Ana and Madame Charlotte out of the door and into the large hut, holding his breath.

Upon entering, he surveyed the entire hut at once and became dizzied with the smell of the perfumed smoke rising from the fire. He looked to Madame Charlotte and she was smiling proudly at the establishment she had created.

"Take a good look at them," she murmured to him. "They're all beautiful. I buy all the beautiful ones. This is what you'll be rewarded with if you do everything I ask." She looked to him and grinned, and Will looked from girl to girl.

And then, his heart stopped and his throat closed. There was Elizabeth, sleeping soundly on a bunk near the far end of the hut. She lay comfortably on her back with her arms atop her belly snugly. The air left his lungs in a rush and he stepped closer to her. She was there, she was alive and alright, and so beautiful. His eyes traveled down to her belly and involuntarily filled with tears. He had missed this. He had missed their child growing inside of her, and he blamed himself. The desire to reach forward and touch her stomach was overwhelming, and yet he didn't. He couldn't wake her. Not now.

A voice to his left startled him and he looked away. "Yes, she's a pretty one, isn't she?" Madame Charlotte said softly. "And my most expensive. She's bedridden now because of that baby, but I have a feeling she'll be my best. She's got a fire in her that the men will enjoy, I'm sure." With a pat on his arm, she turned away. "You'll have to be extra good to deserve that one."

Her words set a deep, burning hatred into the pit of his stomach, and for the first time in his life, Will was overcome with the urge to strike a woman. Instead, he turned and looked to Ana Maria, who was sitting upon her bunk. He nodded to her, and she nodded back, noting that tonight was the time for acting. William could not keep Elizabeth here any longer than that.

.ooo.

The air was humid and heavy, and the sky made it clear that rain was to be expected that night. For this, Will was thankful. The rain would help them more than hinder them, as it had on the night of their jail break.

He lay awake in his makeshift bed on the floor of Madame Charlotte's hut until well after midnight. The woman's soft snores had resonated for hours now, and Will was sure she was in a deep sleep.

Lifting himself silently to his feet, he stepped quietly to the door, thankful both for the fact that he wore no shoes and that there was no mat covering the door, as it was too hot that night.

The night was pitch black, and Will took each step with caution, careful not to knock anything over. His surroundings became somewhat lighter and clearer, signifying that he was outside. In the darkness, he could faintly make out the next hut, and he entered that one cautiously as well. Not a second after, a distant roll of thunder sounded, and the heavy sound of rain on the roof was heard. William could have rejoiced. If everything was done right, they could escape quickly and easily.

Will rapidly made his way to Ana's bunk, and he made out her figure sitting upon the edge. He touched her shoulder lightly and felt her jump silently. She stood, grabbing onto his arm as if in confirmation. Together, they stepped to Elizabeth's bed.

Will approached with baited breath. He needed to awake her silently and not surprise her, a feat that would surely be impossible. His eyes had adjusted to the dark by now, so he could see her figure clearly.

Bending over her body, he set his lips gently to her temple and stroked her hair with his thumb. He whispered her name so only she could hear. After a few moments, he felt her eyes open slowly and heard her sharp intake of breath. To avoid a scream, he pulled his face away slightly and took hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips. He kissed her ring finger softly, gently fingering the golden band adorning it.

He felt more than heard her exhale slowly, and she brought her other hand to the side of his face, touching his features softly. They risked nothing with the exchange of words, even though there were thousands to say. Their lips met softly, and William felt tears. He was unsure if they were hers, his, or both of theirs.

Ana nudged Will's side and he pulled away from his wife reluctantly. Placing one hand behind her back and the other grasping her forearm, he gently sat her up and helped her to her feet. He knew they should hurry and that they hardly had any time to waste, but he couldn't restrain himself. He wrapped his arms tightly around her figure and kissed her soundly, feeling her reciprocate his actions.

The bump of her stomach protruded against him and he peered down in the darkness, a small smile upon his face. He brought a hand up to touch her belly softly, and he felt her own smile as she brought her face up to kiss him once more.

A quiet huff sounded from Ana Maria and he was torn from this happy moment and brought back to the situation at hand. With one more lasting kiss, Will broke away and took Elizabeth's hand gently. The trio made their way silently out of the hut, Will helping his wife as best he could, as he knew she wasn't supposed to be out of bed.

The rain came down fast and hard, and the three were immediately drenched. Elizabeth shivered and Will set a protective arm around her. Creeping silently through the streets, they put as much distance as possible away from the hut and tried to make it to the forest as fast as they could.

Not one of them saw the lone guard patrolling the rain-soaked streets up ahead, until they were mere feet away from him.

"Oi!," the guard called in surprise, and they nearly collided into each other, startled cries coming from both parties. Will reacted instantaneously and leapt for the guard, tackling him with his bare arms. However, the guard had already managed to get to his gun and a loud shot rang through the air.

Will gave a short gasp and slumped down to his knees. Elizabeth screamed and called out his name, grabbing hold of his body before he fell to the ground. She sank to the muddy street, cradling his body against hers as panic seized her body. There was a commotion all about them now, as villagers and soldiers alike came to see what had happened. She saw none of this. Will's shirt was becoming red with blood and there was a wound in his shoulder.

Pressing her hand to the wound, she winced as Will cried out in pain. "I'm so sorry," she murmured. "Will, stay awake. Please. You'll be alright." Her hands were soon covered in her husband's blood, but she did not care. She was sobbing, and Will was staring at her intently, rapidly blinking the rain and his own tears from his eyes.

Elizabeth felt a rough hand yank her from her husband and she cried out furiously, bringing her hand around to strike whomever dared take her away from Will. Her aim was true and she heard a pained grunt from her assailant. However, in the next moment, she felt her hair pulled painfully and a large hand struck her face, stunning her. Will was pulled from her arms and she cried out, as he was yelling out in pain and anguish.

William was practically dragged, and Elizabeth roughly pushed forward in the direction of the jail that Will had escaped from days before. Both knew they would not be so lucky and escape this time.

Elizabeth struggled continuously with her captor, trying in vain to get to Will, who was leaving a faint trail of red in the sloppy road. She dimly heard the sound of Ana struggling with her own captor.

"Bloody whore!" she heard a man grunt, followed by an odd squelching sound, and then a gunshot.

Fear seized Elizabeth, and she turned around quickly, only to be astonished at what she saw. The squelching sound was the sound of the man's heavy body falling to the floor, and around him was a darkening pool of blood that was slowly trailing away with the rain. Ana was running as fast as she could into the forest.

The other guards cursed and aimed their guns, before lowering them again in frustration. The woman was already lost in the darkness.

The couple was jostled forward once more and Elizabeth strained as she heard Will call out in pain.

Another hand collided against her cheek and her eyes stung with tears. Every groan and gasp from her husband cut into her deeply, until her body was numb except for the painful throbbing in her chest.

Her feet were now scraping across rough stone and Elizabeth realized with dread that they had entered the jail, and were now being brutally jostled down the stairs. She was too preoccupied in not falling to count the flights, and by the time there were no more stairs to descend, she was sure they were deep enough to be in Hell.

She and Will were practically thrown into the cell and she grabbed onto a damp, mossy wall to keep from falling. Will had no such luck and fell onto the floor, his sudden pained cry silenced by the clang of the cell door jamming shut.

Muffled footsteps sounded until there was nothing but silence and darkness. There was a omnipresent scent of dead and dying things that made Elizabeth queasy, so she continued to breathe out of her mouth.

"Will?" She whispered, surprised to find that her voice sounded strong, as she felt weak and helpless.

There was a groaned answer and she felt her way across the floor until she grasped his damp clothes. She lifted his body, despite his groaned protests and let his torso rest upon her lap. Her deft fingers located the wound and immediately applied pressure, not caring that her fingers were becoming wet with his blood.

He called out, and she attempted to soothe him with her trembling voice. "I'm so sorry, Will. I need to stop the bleeding. I'm sorry." Tears dripped down her already damp cheeks as she brought a hand to caress his forehead.

Will adjusted himself below her, and Elizabeth's crying halted as she felt a hand and his warm breath against her belly. "I missed this," he breathed, stroking her skin through the fabric of her clothes. "I couldn't protect you."

"It wasn't your fault, Will," Elizabeth whispered, but she felt him shake his head.

"It was," he replied in a pained voice. "I wasn't there when they came. I wasn't there in time…" His voice faltered and broke off and he became very still.

Suddenly alarmed, Elizabeth shook him, and was relieved to hear him groan. "Christ, Will, you have to keep moving," she scolded lightly. "I can't see whether you're alive or not."

She heard his low chuckle. "I'm sorry," he muttered as his hand resumed stroking her belly. And then, in a smaller voice, "I'm so sorry."

Elizabeth grasped his hand and brought it to her lips. "Don't be," she murmured in response. Something stirred inside of her and she smiled. She brought his hand back down to where their baby grew and placed it softly upon her skin. Will inhaled quickly at the soft movements against his palm.

"We'll make it out of here," Elizabeth said with determination. They had to; they couldn't fail after coming so far.

Will said nothing, and only kissed the skin by his hand.

XXX

**Author's Note: **Ahhh, I'm very happy. This story is almost over. I'd say one or two more chapters and then it's finished. About time, too!


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